80's Hip-Hop
Hey guys! First Supernatural fic/drabble. Little Destiel. Not really much though, just dipping my toe in the water. Hope you guys enjoy it!
"This speech is my recital, I think it's very vital, to rock a rhyme, that's right on time, it's Tricky is the title, here we go…"
The bunker was practically vibrating with the sound of Run DMC as Dean pulled up to the entrance, hearing the beat even through the Impala's window. He looked over at Sam, who was already looking over at their humble abode with furrowed brows. His eyes flicked over to Dean, and one of his brows arched in question at his brother.
"Stay here, I'll figure it out." Dean muttered, pushing open his door and starting toward the bunker, the sound of the annoyingly catchy chorus growing louder as he opened the door, looking over his shoulder to make sure Sam was still there as he cautiously stepped into the entryway.
"It's Tricky to rock a rhyme, to rock a rhyme that's right on time, it's Tricky...How is it D? It's Tricky Tricky Tricky Trrrrrricky"
Dean found himself stepping to the beat of the song, and quickly paused in the main hall, tilting his head slightly to determine where the sound was originating from. Hearing a rustle, and creaking of wood, he determined it was coming from the library. His brain was also trying to figure out who had found this place. And why the hell would they play 80's hip hop? Of all things? Maybe a teenage couple that found a place to bump uglies, with bad taste in music. Wrinkling his nose, he prayed that he didn't have to turn the corner and see that. With a final breath, he took one step and entered the library, head snapping toward the wooden table where he caught movement, his eyes widening at what he actually saw.
Castiel, clad in a pair of white socks, black boxers and a white t-shirt, was holding a duster, reaching up to clean the ceiling fan, his hips swaying to the beat. Dean bit back a chuckle, smirking at the sight and wanting to enjoy it for as long as he could. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the doorframe, waiting for Castiel to finally notice him.
"I ain't lyin', girls be cryin' cos I'm on TV, they even bother my poor father cos he's down with me"
At this point, Castiel tucked one leg over the other and used it to spin all the way around, starting to rap along with the chorus, though he only got about two words in before he saw Dean, his form straightening at lightning speed and his eyes getting the size of dinner plates. Run DMC was still talking about it being tricky to write a rhyme, while Castiel was finding it tricky to come up with any words to say to Dean.
"Hello, Dean. I...See you've...made it back safely..." He called over to Dean, nodding once.
Dean was looking over at him, his expression one of amusement as he looked Castiel up and down, finally letting out a small chuckle.
"Uh...Yeah, Cas. We got back in one piece. I see that you've been...Delving into Sammy's MP3 player, and brushing up on your dance moves." He gestured to the blasting speakers coming from their entertainment center across the room, before bringing his hands back to rest on his hips, raising a brow.
Almost immediately, Cas realized that the song was still playing, and he was still on the table, and within moments the remote to the stereo was out of his pocket, in his hand, and the room was silent. Clearing his throat lightly, Cas slowly made his way off the table, his cheeks feeling like they were on fire.
"Well, um, cleaning isn't my most favorite activity, so I thought I would...add something that would provide some entertainment. Music is known to provide just that…" He started to explain, but Dean's hand raised to silence the angel.
"Cas, save your breath. I understand. Next time though, try picking something a little more...Not that." He shook his head, pushing himself off the door frame and starting to turn back to the hallway.
"I'm gonna go tell Sammy it's all good in here. Why don't you...Put some pants on, and we can head off to the diner for some celebratory burgers and pie." Dean spoke over his shoulder, just to see Cas glance down at himself and see he actually was sans pants.
"I'll get right on that. Give me five minutes." He replied, heading out of the library and into the main hallway that Dean was walking down,, but not before tossing the remote onto the couch.
What was once a silent bunker was now filled with the sound of Missy Elliot.
"Is it worth it, let me work it, I put my thing down, flip it and reverse it." Castiel's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, but not at the music. What he saw in front of him was much worse.
Dean was making his way up the steps to the door of the bunker, gyrating his hips to the beat.
"Dean!" He called, brows knitted together and a grimace on his face. How dare he just call him out for hating this perfectly fine genre, when he listened to it himself.
The moment he heard his name, he knew he had just went up shit creek without a paddle. Stopping immediately, he slowly turned around, clearing his throat and sighing.
"Hey, it's catchy, and it tells the ladies to work it. Doesn't sound half bad to me." He explained, shrugging his shoulders and sending a wink Cas's way as he pushed open the door of the building and backpedaled, trying to get away from the situation and turning away from Cas's glare. A shit eating grin was on his face as he looked over at Sammy still in the Impala and waved him over, hearing the music stop in the bunker once again, but the beat was ingrained in his mind for the next week.
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