Dean took another shot of whiskey and plopped onto the squeaky motel bed. In the corner of his eye, his brother Sam exited the bathroom, tossing the damp towel behind him and onto the bathroom floor.
"Alright, so we've got an important decision to make," Sam said gruffly, his voice still hoarse from all the yelling they had to do on their last hunt. Damn witches, Dean wondered with a grimace at the image of sacrificial things the witch had to use for her dark ritual. It was official. He'd never be able to understand those sons of bitches.
"What?" Dean more like grunted, not having the energy to really speak.
"Whose turn is it to get food?"
"Can't remember."
Sam stepped in front of his older brother, giving him an expectant look. Looking over his disheveled appearance, Dean knew for a fact that his little brother was just as exhausted as he was from the hunt, especially with the end of the world vastly approaching. They still had yet to figure out what they were going to do about Lucifer wanting Sam as his vessel, as well as Michael wanting Dean as his vessel. Even Castiel, an angel of the lord, seemed to have no answers for solutions after the search for God went caput.
Still, Dean was determined to go down fighting if it came down to it. He was tired of being angel or demon pawns.
Screw those sons of bitches.
Wordlessly, Sam held up his hands in the rock-paper-scissors gesture. After a pause, Dean followed suite, and they played a quick round—2 out of 3, with Sam losing.
"Damn it," Sam grumbled, reluctantly turning to grab his wallet. "The usual?"
"Burger with fries, and—"
"A pie, yeah, yeah. I'll be back."
Dean turned over onto his pillow as Sam exited the motel. He knew he should lock the door with all the demons and angels out searching for them, but he was too tired to move an inch. I'll do it later, he told himself.
For a few minutes, he felt himself drifting in and out of sleep. But even with the whiskey calming his limbs, his thoughts still whirled with all the questions and no answers of their never-ending situation. The days of having a normal life were long gone, that was for sure, especially with Lucifer walking the earth. Inevitably, Dean started thinking of his friend Castiel and remembered the sorrowful look on his face after Sam and Dean went to Heaven and learned that God was there, but didn't want any input with what was happening.
His friend.
Dean scoffed a little into the pillow. What had his life become? Really? Friends with an angel of the lord?
He reached for his cup of whiskey and took another much-needed sip.
He thought back to when he first saw Castiel. How shocked he was to hear that he was an angel—after all those times Dean scoffed at Sam's faith of believing them to be real, despite a hunter never seeing one. He remembered the fear he felt when Castiel's ice blue eyes bored into his, and he said that he pulled him out of Hell, so he could throw him back in and to give him respect. He thought about all the references he had made and how the angel had and probably will never understand them.
Of all his time of doubting in the existence of angels, it was uncanny to think that Dean now knew one. In a human vessel, of course, but an angel nonetheless.
But then his thoughts took another direction. A much different direction—one he couldn't stop himself from treading. It had happened to him before, many times, and each time he seemed to have no control over it.
He had a hard-on pretty soon from his disturbingly dirty thoughts. Stricken, Dean sat up straight in the bed and rubbed at his eyes, trying to rid himself of the images. It was wrong to think of Castiel like that, damn it—an angel of the lord!
"Hello, Dean."
"Holy—Cas!" Dean whirled around to find himself face-to-face with said angel. He scrambled away and huffed, "How many times do I have to tell you about personal space?"
Cas' intent gaze never wavered. "Are you okay, Dean?"
Reaching for his cup of whiskey, Dean muttered, "Never been better. How're things upstairs?"
Cas' jaw stiffened. He broke their gaze. "I haven't visited in a while. I'm seeing more of the world, and it's very…interesting."
"Checking out the strip bars, huh? Should've invited me, man." Dean cracked a dry grin, seeing Cas' face turn uncomfortable.
Dean tried his best to maintain a calm composure when Castiel sat on the bed next to him, folding his hands in his lap. Dean made sure to pull a pillow over his own lap to hide the tent in his jeans. Damn it…dead puppies, dead puppies, deadpuppies—c'mon!
"Have you ever been to Spain?" Castiel asked.
"Nope. But I've heard the women are beautiful." Again, Dead cocked another shit-eating grin, though the angel didn't reciprocate.
"Earth is very unique," Castiel said softly. "And the people…different cultures, different regions—they're all so enthralling. I've really enjoyed learning the different customs and values."
"So, I'm assuming you've pulled yourself out of your shit hole, huh?" Dean said. "For a while there—we were worried about you, man."
For a moment or so, Castiel was silent. He seemed to be in deep thought, which wasn't unusual. Lately, though, that was becoming peculiar.
But then he looked at Dean and said, "Is there anything I can do for you, Dean?"
If possible, the hard-on in Dean's jeans was back, full on.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, feeling suddenly very hot in the room. He started to pull off his jacket and tossed it on the floor. When Castiel just stared at him, Dean inwardly panicked—he was an angel, damn it! It felt like he was looking right through him and into all his wet dreams and tantalizing thoughts concerning said angel—which is seriously fucked up. Trying to snap out of it, Dean feigned nonchalance and shrugged, "Nah, man. There's nothing here. Why don't you stop by during our next hunt, though? It sure would help."
Castiel blinked. Then looked away.
With a wush of wings, the angel was gone.
"God damn it, Cas," Dean said to nobody in particular, begrudgingly pulling the pillow off his lap. Sometimes it was so frustrating having someone who appeared so suddenly like that—at the worst time, of course—and leaving just as suddenly. Though Castiel was learning more of their world as an angel of the lord, he sure as hell had his moments.
Dean plopped back down onto the bed just as he heard the door opening and Sam making his way inside.
But…what exactly did he mean 'Is there anything I can do for you, Dean?'