"One more time, Cas."
The former cherub ran a hand through his hair, which was at this point, was a matted mess. His weary marble eyes raked the man above him with displeasure. Not a single auburn hair on his head ran askew, his emerald eyes never lost focus on his pinned subject and he managed to break not a single bead of sweat.
"Dean, I think I have enough practice—"
Dean pressed harder into his body and his forearm lodged into his throat, seizing his breath, prohibiting him from speaking. Cas sank his teeth into his bottom lip to avoid collision with an inhumane noise. After all he was training to be a tougher man, not a weaker one.
"There's no such thing as enough practice, Cas. You have to understand that there are things stronger and faster than you and you have to be prepared. You have the basics covered, and while you think you're good enough, just remember you're practically cat nip to some cold-hearted son of a bitch. "Now, there's also something I like to call the element of surprise—"
Cas stole the breath out of Dean kneeing him just above his crotch—By all means knee your opponent where the sun don't shine but for exclusive purposes, we'll modify that so I don't bleed dick juice all over this nice carpet—and wrapped his legs around his lower back, driving his heals into his spinal cord and flipped Dean on his back. Cas had Dean Winchester just where he wanted him now: wrapped around his tiny finger.
"I think I have enough practice," he reiterated, staring into Dean's dilated irises. Dean retaliated by jabbing his elbow into the crook of his neck and a blow to his stomach that sent Cas back to his original state. Before he had the chance to redeem himself he was choking on oxygen.
"Brachial plexus," Dean pronounced as if it was his own name, "It's a nerve fiber in your neck that can be triggered as a common pressure point."
Cas made sure he found his voice before beginning a new sentence. "You haven't even demonstrated that tactic. So not fair," Cas pouted. As close as Dean was to the shorter man's face, he could clearly see his sapphires on full throttle mode to get what he wanted and curling his bottom lip over his upper. Dean could have laughed at his ingenuous depiction of a toddler staring into the eyes of a gingerbread man he couldn't have at a candy store.
"That look has Sam's trademark written all over it. What has he been teaching you?"
A smile tugged on the corners of his lips, revealing small dimples in his scarlet cheeks. "Oh, you know how to…manage heavy equipment."
Dean returned gliding his hands from Cas's chest to his hips and straddled the firmed muscles. He leaned in close enough that his warm words tickled in his ear and trickled down to places he never thought could be touched by oral communication.
"I'm going to kick his scrawny ass right after I deal with yours."
The sound of pretentious moose hoofs cut Dean short of wrapping his tongue around Cas's mouth and other due places. He snorted when he turned his head to find not one but two men staring at them, however, hadn't made the attempt to peel himself from Castiel.
"Oh don't mind us." Sam's voice reverberated off the upstairs wall in a manner so pompous that he could practically smell him churning his own shit.
"I think you guys are lost, the bedroom is down the hall," Kevin retorted, earning a sly underhand five from Sam. Dean rolled his eyes, beginning to rue the decision to leave the door open for safety purposes. He tore himself from Cas and helped the other man up with his hand in one flawless move. Cas cleared his throat and directed his head to the ground in attempt to alleviate the profuse redness smoldering his smaller stature.
"Well if it isn't Dumb and Dumber," Dean stated. Little Moose shifted to the other side of the doorframe, suddenly cautious of how close he was standing to Sam. "What's so important that you have to intrude during practice?"
The only thing preventing Sam from cracking another wise ass joke was Dean's irate glare. Sam cleared his throat sensing the notation of sincerity in his eyes and prepped himself for his announcement.
"Three vics were found by the cemetery at the time of their death, no sign of struggle. There were no witnesses but in every report feds stated that it looked like, and I quote, 'The life was sucked out of them.'"
"Necromancers?"
Sam shook his head. "I don't think so. Every vic found at the scene were separated at least thirty years in age. One man seventy-two, a woman thirty-eight and the most recent a boy, four, crawled out of his cradle, found within the same perimeter of the others. As far as I know, I don't think a toddler in training diapers can commit necromancy," he deduced smartly.
"Alright, seems like a legit case." He folded his arms over his chest. "Where do we start?"
The first word that escaped his brother's mouth was one he always rued hearing. "Research. Hopefully then we'll collect more info on the vics. Then we can head out."
He heaved a sigh. "Alright, we'll meet you down in a few."
"Do you two need to finish your playdate before we head out?" he teased, his lip curling in amusement.
"Get out of here," Dean grumbled irritably. Sam exchanged bemused looks between him and Cas before eventually stalking off with Kevin downstairs to suit up. Dean hadn't turned around to notice Cas still standing behind him with the same flushed cheeks. His head was too preoccupied with the ground and his muscles were perceivably tense, as if he was carrying a precarious weight on his shoulders.
Cas formed the shape of the words he wanted to say with his lips but all that managed to come out was "Dean, I—I'm sorry if I imposed on you."
He turned on his heels to walk out of the practice room before Dean seized him by the arm and mangled it behind his head. He used his leg to kick him in the shin and pin him to the floor again. Cas found himself drawing sporadic breaths in-between movements. Dean pressed himself against his angel again so that all he could feel were deep contours of his body and the pounding of his heartbeat as his lips finally met Cas's.
"And that is the element of surprise."
