Dean was cold. And wet. And tired.

It was all Sam's fault.

Well, it was sort of Sam's fault. He didn't push Dean into the river, but he was the reason the blond was standing so close to the river.

Cas was really the person who the elder Winchester should blame, but whenever Dean looked into his puppy dog blue eyes, he couldn't be mad.

He could only ever be mildly annoyed with the angel.

The angel had appeared beside him, while he was crouched beside the river, looking for evidence of any supernatural activity - a floating hex bag, for example, having suspected witches were the cause behind the attacks they were currently investigating.

The shock of the angel's sudden appearance had caused Dean to stumble, and he fell straight into the water.

Very cold water.

So, dripping wet, he and Cas made their way back to the motel room the Winchesters were staying in - Dean trudging along, while Castiel walked briskly beside him.

Cas would have 'mojo'ed the pair of them back to the room - Sam driving the Impala, so Dean didn't ruin the seats - but he was running low on power, his grace not fully functioning (Dean suspected that the people upstairs had something to do with it).

After a quickly changing into his monkey suit - having arrived before the two that walked - Sam left his moaning, shivering brother in the capable - well, somewhat capable (he couldn't exactly kill Cas) - hands of the angel. He laughed his way out the door.

Dean had a long shower. A long, warm shower.

Castiel had laid him out a large, fresh, fluffy towel, and was waiting in the living/sleeping area, for the hunter to finish.

He had forgot to bring in clothes for himself though.

Dean wasn't a shy person, and he was sure Castiel had seen him in all states of undress - hell, the angel had rebuilt his body, and watched him sleep, who knew what else he watched him do - so he walked out of the bathroom, towel wrapped firmly around his waist, and walked over to his duffle, rummaging through for clean clothes. Preferably warm, clean clothes. He was still shivering slightly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the angel staring at him.

"See something you like?" Dean teased, flashing a smirk and a wink towards Cas, who was seated on the small sofa in the room.

The hunter received a confused head tilt in return.

Throwing the clothes he had chosen back onto his bed, the blond made his way over to the angel.

"You're terrible at flirting."

"What's flirting?"

Dean smiled fondly.

"Oh, Cas, there are many things I need to teach you."

"Are you going to teach me to flirt?"

"I can do you one better."

Any more conversation was cut short by lips pressing against lips.

There was no talking for a while, but a whole lot of making out.

Dean really did speak better without words.