((So I'm sure this has been done before but I couldn't resist doing something like this. While I have no problem with Slash, I think their friendship is so much fun and really deserves more of a spotlight. This really could take place at anytime but I wrote it for the beginning of season 5. It's just a quick drabble but I would really appreciate any feedback. You guys really make my day with every comment/ fave out there. I even came across someone who quoted me in their profile… seriously I felt so honored.))
xxXxx
Dean had grown used to his angel popping up at random points with some query about human nature or something equally mundane. The questions seemed completely random, and Dean still had no idea how a celestial being, who grasped the inner workings of the cosmos, was flummoxed by a microwave.
Most of the times, the angel would pop in long after the sun had dipped down below the horizon, and usually after Dean had passed out. At first Dean demanded that he didn't wake him when he zapped in, but after several mornings of waking up to the angel sitting entirely too close to him, he began to insist on the wake-up. Less heart attacks for him and Sam and less knife-holes in the trench coat for Cas.
It was nearly three in the morning and Dean had just stepped out of the shower. Sam was off working some crap-job the next state over so he decided to forego getting dressed, settling instead on a towel wrapped about his waist. After nearly five years of being glued to his brother they found that sometimes a few days apart was a welcome change and Dean especially reveled in certain freedoms that come intrinsically with being alone.
"Dean."
Dean gave a rather harsh start, and clutched at his towel to prevent any awkward incidents. (Funny how he no longer counting Cas zapping in on his private time as "awkward.")
Cas tilted his head slightly. "Am I interrupting something?" He asked, looking about as though expecting to see someone else.
"Just my after-shower routine," Dean said, silently mourning his lost solitude, though he didn't mind it so much since it was Cas. Cas rarely made a big deal of anything Dean did on his off –time and his presence had become less intrusive over the years and became more of a comforting constant (not that he would ever mention this little tidbit to anyone.)
"You wander about the room in a towel? I do not remember ever seeing you partake of this routine." Cas commented, sitting down in one of the crappy motel chairs. Dean considered warning him about the questionable hygiene of said chairs, but figured sanitation was pretty low on the angel's priorities.
"I do when I'm alone," Dean said pointedly. "Can you turn your head or close your eyes or something while I get some pants on."
Cas nodded and turned to study the cheesy wall painting as thought he was about to be quizzed on it. Dean chuckled and grabbed some boxers and jeans that looked relatively clean and tugged them on rapidly. As comfortable as he had grown with his angel, Dean still didn't like the thought of being so vulnerable around him. Finally he plopped down on the bed facing Cas, who shifted his piercing gaze to peer into Dean's eyes.
"So," Dean said, clearing his throat and grabbing for two beers from the mini fridge. He tossed one to Cas, who caught it without question. "What deep question about the human psyche have you got for me tonight?" He asked, popping off the top and tossing it in the general vicinity of the trashcan.
"Could you please explain something to me regarding human interactions?" Cas asked, pondering the bottle for a moment before mimicking Dean's actions. (Though his cap actually went in… perfectionist bastard.)
"What did you get yourself into this time?" Dean laughed, taking a swig. Cas looked up at him but made no attempt to answer his question—not that Dean expected otherwise.
"Dean."
"Oh, alright. Fire away, oh Grand Inquisitor," Dean said with a snarky smile.
"What is the purpose of a 'blowjob'?" Cas asked. From his tone he could have just as easily been asking why the sky was blue. Dean, who was taking another swig, choked. Cas' confusion only increased as he watched the hunter sputter and cough.
"Wh-What the hell?" Dean finally managed, wiping his mouth. "Why would you ask me that?"
"Is it not a valid question?" Cas replied, still oblivious. "The act does not lead to any chance of reproductive success. Indeed it seems downright counter-intuitive; does it not the risk of transmitting venereal diseases, without any biological benefits?"
"People don't do it for the 'reproductive success'," Dean sighed, not even sure where to start. Although as far as conversations go this wasn't as bad as the first time Dean had to explain one-night stands to the angel after he zapped into one of Dean's. "Remember how I explained sex? People don't look at the cost to benefit ratio or whatever. They do what they do because it feels good."
"But that?" Cas asked, only more perplexed. "Wouldn't sex be the more obvious choice? It is more stimulating and rewarding for both parties."
"I suppose," Dean conceded, damn the angel had a point.
"Then why do it?"
"Why indeed," Dean snorted. "Look, sometimes… humans get bored with the same old same old… we like trying different things. It's just a different set of sensations, okay?" He paused and offered up a silent prayer that Cas would leave it at that. He dreaded the day that the angel discovered the weirder kinks that lurked about.
"I see…" Cas said, he stayed silent for a long few moments, staring at Dean contemplatively. Just when Dean was starting to feel really uncomfortable, Cas stood up, his normal mask back in place. "Thank you, Dean. That was most informative."
He was gone before Dean could react, leaving the hunter alone in the motel. Dean noticed that the angel had taken the beer with him.
"Damn Cas… what do you get into when you're not with us?" He chuckled to the long gone angel.
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((Wow I haven't done something so cheery in a long time. Hope you enjoyed it.))