(A/N: Rated M for mature content and language.
Thank you all for the follows, favorites and reviews! I get inappropriately excited with each one... Heh. Numerous apologies for the lateness; this chapter kept wanting to slide right into smut (heavy, inappropriate smut) and I wanted to make sure it stayed respectable. (Them boys are insatiable perverts, I tell ya...)
Warnings: Just some language, I think.
Enjoy. :))
Bobby walked into the kitchen and he noticed it was pretty much deserted—except for Harry. Finally. His house was too damn busy these days and getting a moment alone with Harry seemed nearly impossible if he didn't want to stay holed up in his room. The idea was starting to sound really good... as long as they hoarded some food (and tea) first, he wouldn't mind. But he knew Harry would probably want to surface after a few days, feeling the need to be a good host to their guests.
He grabbed the wizard by a belt loop and yanked until Harry landed in his lap, sprawled out and laughing. He grinned back, not even bothering with any pretense as he unabashedly goosed Harry's ass. The pinch quickly turned into a fondle, though. He nearly pouted when the wizard didn't react beyond rolling his eyes. At least he didn't wiggle away.
"I was in the middle of something," Harry said, trying not to smile (or melt against Bobby's chest) as he held up a soapy sponge.
Bobby shrugged, taking the sponge from Harry's unresisting fingers and tossing it in the general direction of the sink. "Just wave your doohickey and be done with it," he said seriously, leaning in close enough to nearly touch noses. He absently noticed Harry doing just that, mostly preoccupied with staring at Harry's mouth now, before yanking the wizard into a kiss. He felt more than heard Harry sigh happily and relax against him, the buttons on their shirts clinking together softly as Harry pressed closer. Harry's hands slid up his chest and he didn't even care those still-sudsy hands wound up in his hair, pushing up and in just enough to feel good but not disturb his cap.
Just as he was about to slide his hands down and grab at Harry's ass with more purpose this time, the sound of footsteps had him groaning in frustration. Goddammit. He didn't stop what he was doing, but he was prepared for the interruption this time.
"Oops. My apologies," Draco drawled from the doorway of the kitchen. He rolled his eyes when Potter turned his head, his fingers still tangled in his Muggle's hair, his mouth set in a slight frown. He raised an eyebrow, supremely unimpressed with Potter's Bitch Face (though it did amuse him greatly to know he'd learned more than just quaint American colloquialisms from the group of Hunters).
If he didn't intend to be walked in on, he shouldn't be manhandling Bobby in the kitchen.
Harry huffed and shifted until he was astride Bobby's lap, but didn't leave it. Draco walked in on him and he was buggered if he'd apologize for his indecent state. Even if they were in a 'common' room like the kitchen. Draco was supposed to be out of the house for at least another hour, anyway.
"Why are you here?"
Draco's other eyebrow rose up. "I was under the impression I was welcome here. Well, at least for another week."
Harry snickered. "Shut up, you know what I meant."
"Oh. Well, in that case, we were given assistance and returned quicker than we expected."
Harry just hummed, dismissing Draco in favor of unbuttoning Bobby's shirt and pants. He knew Draco would wander away soon, knowing the blonde had no interest in seeing his arse. Or Bobby's. And if not, he deserved whatever horrors he might witness for being an interrupting prat. He looked up, a little annoyed and edging towards frustrated, when Bobby's hand covered his, stopping his movements. He only got one button undone, dammit.
"Who helped?" Bobby asked Draco, looking at him over Harry's shoulder with his eyes narrowed a little. He was suspicious and ready to go find the Winchesters and kick their asses up to their ears if they accepted help from random strangers again. Didn't those idjits learn?
Draco's eyes widened unconsciously and he leaned forward, his voice dropping into a whisper. "An angel," he said, sounding a little confused but awed nonetheless. Yes, he had heard of such things but the entire concept of all the other things Potter dealt with as a Hunter had been abstract... Until he met a being claiming to be an angel. And he could admit, if pressed, that he'd immediately believed the claim simply by the powerful aura he felt.
Harry didn't get a chance to say anything else before Bobby was shoving him off his lap (gently enough to make sure he wound up on his feet and not his arse) and hurrying from the room. He watched the older Hunter go before turning to Draco again. He wanted to be annoyed at the git, interrupting and all. "Really?" Draco nodded, his eyes still a little wide. "What did you think?" he asked, grinning since he was enjoying the blonde's rare show of open admiration.
He only met the angel once. It had been a little awkward at first, but it had been a little overwhelming for him, too.
"It was... indescribable," Draco murmured after a short pause to gather his thoughts. He wasn't surprised to see Potter merely nod in understanding. "You've met him as well?" He had no idea if 'him' was even the proper pronoun; did angels have a gender? (He certainly looked like a bloke, though.) He really didn't know but it seemed incredibly rude to say 'it', though.
"Yeah," Harry nodded, turning away to make tea. He had an idea they'd need it. "It wasn't long, as it didn't start out on the best terms, but I did. Did he try to touch you?" he asked, turning away from the lightly steaming kettle to give Draco a curious glance.
Draco blinked. "Touch me? No," he answered, giving Potter an odd look. He didn't think Heavenly representatives went about fondling mortals. Or maybe they did; he really didn't know, he hadn't ever had the opportunity to meet one before. "He didn't do much, just popped in—like a silent apparation—and told use exactly where to find what we were looking for. He mostly spoke to Dean, but he did greet us all politely. After a few moments, we all popped away and we found the book Hermione had been looking for."
And the 'popping' thing had been so much more pleasant than apparation, he'd nearly been jealous. He had been a little surprised to see Dean approach the angel first, his entire posture relaxed and a bright, a tiny but warm smile flickering across the normally grouchy Hunter's face. It had been a little odd and made him wonder about the true nature of the relationship between Castiel and Dean.
"Well, that was handy," Harry said absently, pouring out the tea. He added a fourth cup when he heard Sam's distinctive gait approach the kitchen. As soon as he set the kettle back on the counter, Hermione and Sam entered the kitchen. He snickered when they both sat down and started talking at the same time, their free hands waving around as they spoke. He carefully set a mug in front of Hermione, letting it go only when her hands stopped flailing and one wrapped securely around the mug instead of knocking it over.
"And then Cas was there—"
"—the book! I couldn't believe it, Harry!"
Harry nodded along, catching only about half of what the pair was saying since they were talking over each other. He nearly choked on his tea when Sam then shifted his chair closer to Draco and laid an arm across the back of it. The urge to stare or question his friend was strong when Draco made no attempts to move or snark at Sam, but Hermione's voice registered and he looked away from the odd sight.
"Huh?" he said, only half-aware of her question.
"I said, were you aware that Dean and Sam are friends with an angel?"
Harry nodded mutely, trying his damnedest not to stare at Sam's hand. Or the way Hermione was sitting close to Sam. It was all very odd because she had to notice the way he was sitting close to Draco. Just... What? "Yeah. Met him once."
"Wow," Hermione said softly and sipped at her tea, oblivious to Harry's eyes flicking around between her, Sam and Draco. They only just got back, but Sam had told her a little bit about the relationship him and his brother had with the angel. It was pretty intense, even from the little bit she heard. It also explained the odd reaction Dean had when the angel's presence was noticed. It reminded her of Harry whenever he saw Bobby. Or a treacle tart.
She had no idea how many times she'd get to talk to Castiel during her stay but she hoped he wouldn't shy away from a few questions. She just itched to take a few notes. He didn't seem particularly chatty (well, with anyone that wasn't Sam or Dean), but hopefully she'd be able to get something. She tapped at the handle of her mug as she thought.
"Anyway..." she trailed off, already on a different train of thought. She tapped Sam's arm, getting his attention and tilted her head towards the other room. He nodded and stood, and she followed him out. "I wanted to check that book."
Harry watched them go, their heads bent together (well, Hermione looking up and Sam almost bending at the knees so they almost accomplished that, but whatever) and looked back at a thoughtful Draco. The blonde is absently stroking at his lower lip, lost in his own thoughts, and he almost hated to bother him. He poked his elbow, getting his attention.
"Hmm?" Draco turned to give Potter his attention, blinking twice at the odd look on the other wizard's face. "What?"
Harry's eyebrows slowly drew together. "What the hell was that?"
"What was what?" Draco asked slowly, completely lost. He looked around, realizing it was only him and Potter in the kitchen. And his tea was cold. Bugger. Heating charms always made it taste weird. Off and fairly unpleasant. He nearly rose to make a fresh pot when he caught Potter's expression. "What?" he asked again, a hint of annoyance in his tone. Why was Potter looking at him like that?
Harry paused, eyeing Draco critically. When he was sure the prat wasn't being deliberately obtuse, he sighed. "You. And Sam." And probably Hermione—No. One thing at a time.
"What? Nothing," Draco said, confusion leaking into his annoyed tone.
Harry snorted softly. "Like hell nothing." He leaned a little closer and poked a finger towards the blonde. "You don't like people close to you, breathing your air and in your space." He paused. "Unless they're shagging you rotten," he added dryly. And really, he did not need that mental image in his head regardless of how intriguing the idea might be. He was pretty sure no one would really blame him for thinking about it for more than three seconds; they were both fit (even if Draco was still a right foul little git at times).
"Not true," Draco drawled, sounding offended. He was not some prickly little— Alright, maybe he didn't appreciate a lack of breathing room, but that was hardly uncommon. And how that had anything to do with Sam Winchester (even if he wouldn't refuse the ridiculously tall, handsome American if there was even a hint of interest) he hadn't a clue. "We're just friends, Potter. That's it."
Harry snorted again. "Right. Friends. You'd made friends pretty quickly. Which is rather curious seeing as how I recall you describing him as a barbarian, Muggle. An American." He smirked when Draco had the good grace to avert his eyes, a slight tint to his face.
"I might have," Draco admitted slowly. He wouldn't point out that most of those things were indeed true because Potter would only point out he had sad them in a less-than-agreeable way. Bit of an insult, if you will. "But that would be before I had actually met the bloke. I've re-evaluated my opinion on that count." He scowled when Potter had the nerve to laugh. "I'll have you know I have been known to admit when I'm wrong before." He was only mildly placated when the other wizard slowly raised his hands and nodded his agreement. "That observation, however, still holds true for that brother of his."
Harry merely hummed, not agreeing or disagreeing. He wasn't really going to argue that point but there was more to Dean Winchester than that quite honestly. And he hoped Draco would realize that on his own.
"Right. So, nothing?" Draco shook his head, glaring at him. Harry raised his hands, "Alright, I was just curious. I apologize for making assumptions."
Draco huffed but inclined his head, taking the apology. He snuck a peek over his shoulder, making sure they were still alone. "I, however, cannot make sure Hermione's intentions are as pure-hearted as my own."
"I doubt it," Harry said after a pause. "I've seen that sorta look from her before. She only sees a big, walking brain."
Draco snickered. Yeah. A big, fit, walking brain, but why quibble over small details. "Maybe so, but she'd be the witch that got turned on by such a thing."
Harry wrinkled his nose, smothering the urge to wave his hands around and and yell 'Eww!' like a 10-year-old. That was a rather disturbing mental image and he thought the shudder it caused was quite justified, thankyouverymuch. He cleared his throat and shrugged. "Maybe," he conceded and then wiped the thought (and image) from his mind. "But unless you've seen her plop into his lap or grope him inappropriately, it's a no."
They were both aware that Hermione wasn't shy with her intentions; not since she decided she was a witch that went after what she wanted. He liked that Hermione kept her bossy, but tempered with actual people skills, attitude. He'd seen her grope enough wizards (and two witches) enough times to know she didn't muck about when she was interested.
"I have not," Draco said and then shrugged. It was of little importance to him. He knew Hermione wouldn't give a rat's arse if he (or Potter) 'approved' or not, so he wasn't going to worry himself over the small details. "Well then, is that out of your system,?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Harry shrugged and slugged the last of his tea, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yup," he confirmed and made a point of showing he was giving the blonde his full attention. He was rather obvious Draco had other things he wanted to discuss.
"Good," Draco said dryly and removed a scroll from his breast pocket. A tap had it returning to it's full size and he silently handed it over to Potter. He waited as the wizard carefully unrolled the parchment and read it. He knew Potter had finished when his hands went lax and the scroll snapped back into a tight roll.
Harry slowly looked up and grinned. "You really are a bloody genius; you know that?" It wasn't a surprise, of course; there was a reason he and Hermione were always so close in earning top marks in Hogwarts—every sodding year. They still argued about it but now it only amused him instead of sending him out of the room before he bashed their heads together.
"Yes," Draco said, smirking smugly. He plucked the scroll back and tucked it back into his pocket, intending to keep it safe until he could make a more resilient copy for Potter to manhandle. "I realize it's nothing to do with this current... case you've been working on, but I knew you'd like to see it."
Harry hummed softly and leaned back in his seat, trying not to smile like a utter loon. "Did... did you show anyone else?" he asked after a few moments of quiet. He tried not to squirm when Draco merely looked at him, smirking knowingly like the utterly evil little git that he was.
"No."
"Good."
[]|[]|[]
Harry groaned miserably and let his head thunk to the table, his arms outstretched on the surface on either side of his head. He couldn't believe the sort of effort he (and everyone else) had to expend over a Boggart. A stupid, sodding Boggart. A powerful, dangerous Boggart—but still... A stupid, sodding Boggart. Of course, it wasn't like he could do a half-arsed job at it and leave the possibility of it getting out. Ever.
That just made a cold sensation trickle up his spine and he shuddered.
"I think we're close," Hermione said, walking into the kitchen. Her focus was on the book in her hands but she knew Bobby's well enough she didn't even have to look where she was going. And she knew Harry was here, probably having himself a little sulk.
Harry looked up, rubbing at the red spot on his forehead. He rolled his eyes when he noticed Hermione hadn't looked up from the book her nose was in. "Found something, then?"
"Yeah," Hermione said absently, lowering herself into the closest chair. She slowly lowered the book and pushed it across the table so Harry could see. "I think if we can get Draco to get the proper Wards, we'll be set." She rubbed her hands together, pleased to have solved the mystery. She cocked her head a little when Harry barely glanced at the paragraph she'd pointed out. "Alright?"
Harry nodded and focused on the page in front of him. He didn't exactly understand what he was looking at, that was why Hermione was here in the first place, but it looked different from anything they'd found before. He stuck his thumb over the page and closed the book enough to look at the front of it. "Where did you get this?"
"Bobby had it," Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at Harry curiously. "It was in the basement," she added, trying not to shudder. She'd been in some creepy basements, but Bobby's had to be in the top ten (which was saying something when she went to a haunted school with an actual freakin' dungeon). "He seemed surprised when I mentioned it, so I bet he completely forgot about it."
Harry chuckled, studying the book's cover. It didn't surprise him that there would be a book or two that would slip by Bobby's notice. The man had hundreds, if not thousands, of them. Or it was possible it had anti-Muggle charms on it and he really hadn't known he'd had it. It wouldn't surprise him if Sirius (or one of his parents) had hidden it with the older Hunter at some point. "Did you show Draco?"
"Yes," Hermione said, rolling her eyes a little. As if she wouldn't show the other prat first; Draco actually understood what he was looking at. "He got that excited look and disappeared into Bobby's library. After he made a copy of some pages," she said, nodding her head towards the book in Harry's hands. She chewed on her lip for a moment, still looking at Harry curiously. "You sure you're alright?"
Harry shrugged, looking up at Hermione for a moment. "Yeah, 'course." He sighed and rubbed at his forehead. It didn't hurt anymore but he was a little embarrassed, knowing he'd have to admit what he was thinking so Hermione wouldn't keep pestering him. Or think something was seriously wrong and completely over-react. "I'm just going to miss you both when you leave."
"Ah," Hermione murmured and nodded a little. She reached out and took Harry's hand, squeezing it gently. She always missed her friend when Harry made himself scarce with traveling and Hunting and she should have known Harry would be feeling the same thing. "Well, I know I've still got about two weeks of time I can take, so I don't have to leave as soon as we're done. I don't think Bobby will mind... Do you?"
Harry snickered softly and shook his head. "No, not really. He'll whinge and moan, but he adores you. He'll probably even miss Draco, not that he'd admit it."
It had been odd to walk in on Bobby and Draco, both relaxing in one of Bobby's worn chairs and nursing a beer as they spoke amicably. He wasn't exactly surprised to see that they'd get along once they actually got to talking... they did have quite a bit in common (aside from the shared conviction they were surrounded by idiots). It was the fact that Draco seemed to be enjoying a beer. A common, Muggle, American beer. Of course, as soon as he mentioned it, Draco had glared at him and left the rest untouched. Pompous git.
"Either way," Hermione said and stood up, "I'll check to make sure before I make any plans." She giggled softly when Harry tried to keep the pout contained. "Don't pout, you're not twelve anymore." She grabbed the book from in front of Harry and hurried from the kitchen, intent on finding Draco and seeing what sort of progress he made so far since he'd had some time with the pages.
She found him in Bobby's library, idly twirling a tumbler of amber liquid as he flipped through a book. He looked up as she walked in and made herself comfortable. "So?"
Draco merely shrugged one shoulder and took a sip of the Brandy he'd been enjoying. It was surprisingly good. "I'm sort of on a side project at the moment."
"Really? What?" Hermione asked, leaning forward to look at what Draco was reading. An eyebrow rose when she recognized a few symbols. What was Draco doing?
Draco hummed and edged the book closer, letting the witch get a better look. "Wards. Very thorough, very strong wards."
"For?"
"The house," Draco said matter-of-factly, waving a hand in a vague circle to indicate their surroundings. "I realize there are... localized areas of protection. But one smudge through a Devil's Trap or even a determined foe coming through a wall, and all the sigils in creation aren't going to be much good." He idly ran his thumb along the edges of the pages, drawing his thumb up gently to make the pages flip, and nodding as understanding came across Hermione's face. Wards kept the threat out completely and had a larger radius of protection.
He chuckled, a sound of dark amusement. "It's almost amusing how nearly every creature has their own rune or sigil. It really makes protecting against them that much easier."
Hermione nodded. That was true... Apparently the urge, and arrogance, of wanting to be recognized and known would help them greatly. If there was a symbol attached to them, they could protect against them. "Which have you found so far?"
"All the usual suspects," Draco said, pushing a long list towards Hermione. He saw her eyes flick rapidly down as she read it over. Some of the creatures were unknown to her, but she figured Draco knew what he was doing. Bobby (or the Winchesters) must have helped compile a list. "Of course, I'm guessing there are some that'll be more... effective than others?"
Draco smirked and inclined his head. "Indeed," he agreed. While he would still ward against the odd Banshee or Inferi he was going to make sure the ones against demons and other more common enemies of the Winchesters (and Bobby), would be impenetrable. He looked up when the sound that preceded Castiel's arrival sounded in the room.
"Hi!" Hermione gushed, standing and giving an awkward wave to the angel now standing by Bobby's desk. She grinned when it was returned, just as awkwardly. "Uh, can we help you?"
Castiel nodded and looked around the room, squinting a little as he noticed the grimoire on the wizard's lap. It felt heavy with magic, but he couldn't tell if it was Light or Dark; it wasn't unpleasant and most likely a mix of the two. "I have come to offer my assistance with your protective measures."
"Oh! Wow, thanks! How?" Hermione asked, unsure why Draco was merely staring at the angel passively. Was he not interested? Her attention returned to the angel and she blinked when a small smile lifted his mouth. She looked over her shoulder and smothered the immature urge to giggle when she spotted Dean in the doorway.
Castiel handed the blonde wizard a scrap of paper. He was very aware of Dean moving into the room and trying to see what was written on the paper. He nearly took the paper back so he could show it to Dean properly, but that didn't seem appropriate now that the wizard was reading it with interest.
"What is this?" Draco asked, looking at the symbols covering the paper. There was, what he took to be, descriptions under each symbol but he had no idea what they meant because he didn't know the language printed on the paper. They felt... powerful, though.
Dean looked around as he eased in the room, unsure what was going on but able to make out some of the lines on the paper. They looked vaguely familiar. He remembered what Blondie had been doing, so it was obvious they were intended for protection even if he didn't know against what or the particulars.
"Enochian," Castiel said, looking at Dean but answering all of them.
Dean paused in his trying-for-casual shuffle across the library towards Cas. "The angel doodles?" He shrugged a little when Cas gave him a pretty good bitch face, obviously annoyed at his less-than-respectful description of the Angelic language.
"It is Enochian," Castiel repeated, ignoring Dean's eye roll and focusing on the witch and wizard. They looked properly impressed and he was curiously fighting the urge to preen. "It's the language of Angels," he explained, even though he was sure they both already deciphered that from Dean's clumsy question.
Hermione bent closer to look and felt compelled to touch the paper, stunned at the implications. She looked up, her face carefully blank of expression. "Are you implying that we'll need protection against Angels?" she asked, her voice a near whisper. The very idea was... mind boggling, honestly.
"I do not know," Castiel said, avoiding Dean's gaze. He really didn't know and that alone disquieted him. "It's merely as a precaution, should the need arise."
Draco hummed softly and glanced up at the angel. He still had trouble believing the mild looking, trench coat wearing Muggle-esque man was an angel but... who was he to judge? "Is there a way to allow for certain angels?" he asked, nodding his head towards Castiel, indicating he would be an exception. Well, he assumed he would be an exception—everyone seemed rather attached to him and he was quite sure his admittance would be requested.
"Yes," Castiel said after a moment of hesitation.
Draco raised an eyebrow, expecting further answer. When it didn't come, he noticed Dean looked annoyed and Castiel was looking everywhere else.
"Cas."
Castiel kept his eyes averted, even though that warning tone had him wanting to duck his head a little. It was ridiculous to feel such a thing, but Dean had a way of... affecting him that was most unusual. "There is a way. It just requires something... personal from me." Dean looked like as happy as a wet cat, so he decided not to mention that he'd need to be marked, as well.
"Like what?" Dean demanded, not at all liking the sound of 'personal'.
Castiel leveled his gaze on the blonde wizard. There was already understanding in his expression and he nodded, relieved he was no stranger to Blood Magic. It would be complicated and require quite a bit of his magical energy so it was a relief the wizard was already aware of the requirements. "It is unimportant. I will do it."
"Cas," Dean said again, it was meant to be in demand for answers (like he really could boss around an angel) but it was mostly a plea. He really didn't like the knowing looks going between the angel and the wizard. Nor did he like the thin, sharp blade that materialized out of nowhere. He looked around, but no one else seemed bothered by the turn of events. "Is this really what we're gonna do?"
Draco looked at Castiel and got a nod. "Yes," he said simply. He wasn't about to question an angel and he also was insanely curious and eager to learn something about angelic wards. He handed the blade over to Castiel and watched with academic interest when the angel unbuttoned his shirt.
"Oh shit," Dean muttered, now aware of what was going on. He'd seen similar symbols before. Yeah, he was glad they could keep anything out but allow Cas in but he wasn't so hot on the idea of Cas carving himself up like a turkey and spilling his blood for it. He grit his teeth and clenched his hands when Cas started to cut into his belly like it wasn't a big deal.
He watched as Draco calmly walked over and pressed a test tube looking thing just below the largest rivulet of blood. It was sealed with a quietly murmured word and the wizard just watched as the patterns on Cas stomach stopped bleeding but the angel kept carving. The stained button down came off completely and Cas started working on his arms and the sides of his ribs. Dean winced, even though he was pretty sure Cas felt nothing, when the blade passed over the delicate insides of his under arms.
"It does not hurt, Dean," Cas said in his best reassuring voice, turning his head for a moment to give Dean a small smile.
Dean merely snorted. He knew Cas could handle it (he did stab the guy before without any effect) but it didn't mean he had to like it.
"Almost done," Draco murmured, watching carefully as Castiel carefully added the last nick and slice to the last sigil. The angel appeared to be in no discomfort so he didn't offer an anesthetic charm, and just started the incantation.
Dean watched, horrified but fascinated at the same time, as the sigils carved into Cas' upper body glowed a dark red and then partially healed when the dark yet bright glow ebbed away. They were still visible, clearly marked lines, but they were white and shiny like long-healed scars. The vial of blood that had been drawn and collected came from somewhere behind the blonde wizard but vanished soon after. It seemed to just... vaporize.
Holy shit that was weird.
"Done," Draco said, slumping over a little. "That was... Thank you," he said, nodding at the angel. He got a nod in return and tried not to be surprised when the angel vanished without a word.
[]|[]|[]
Dean paused in the doorway, blinking a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Nope, even after a few blinks (and rubbing at his eyes with the he heel of his palms for good measure) he was sure he wasn't imagining things. Bobby really was snuggling (well, his version of it anyway; which was sitting with his arm across the back of the sofa and not grumping at a very-close-sitting Harry). And watching TV.
Huh.
"You gotta TV?" he asked, already not really all that interested in the answer, and he turned to let the bright screen capture his attention. He didn't think Bobby had a TV; something about how the 'boob tube' ruined brain cells... Or something. Maybe Bobby was convinced it gave off gamma radiation and everyone would slowly turn into the Hulk. Either way, even if Bobby had a TV hiding amongst his books and shit, he expected some dinky, bulky thing with foil covered rabbit ears and a knob that would keep falling off.
What he wasn't expecting was a huge ass flat screen. He didn't really know how he missed seeing it before.
Bobby looked up at Dean, scowling a little. "No," he said dismissively before setting his attention back on the TV and trying to decipher if he'd missed anything. Probably not; it wasn't like there was gonna be much to miss.
He really didn't get Harry's obsession with Reality TV shows... especially crazy ass housewives (that looked like anything but) that spent all their time screwing around and yelling at each other. Or those shows that tried to show the supernatural shit and missed the mark (though, he knew Harry watched those for shits and giggles instead of any real educational value). It was all brain rotting shit but it made his wizard snicker more often than not so whatever.
Draco wandered in and unceremoniously plopped onto the sofa next to Potter, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankle. Seemingly out of nowhere, he had two steaming mugs in his hands and he handed one to Potter, nodding his head in acknowledgement when the other wizard murmured a 'thanks'. He blew on his own tea and resigned himself to Muggle entertainment for the next little while. It would definitely give him a chance to shut his brain off for a few moments.
Hermione wandered in a moment later and perched on the sofa's arm, her attention shifted away from the book in her hands when she noticed it was oddly quiet in the room. She looked around and snickered when she saw the matching expressions of annoyance on Harry and Bobby's faces.
It was kinda cute they made the same face.
Sam stopped in the doorway and his shoulders relaxed a little when he realized where everyone was. It was kinda weird to see everyone in one room like this, but it was nice too. Down time didn't happen often. And they rarely did normal things together.
"Looks like a TV," Dean finally said, strolling further into the room and sitting on the arm of the closest chair. The wood creaked under his butt but thankfully Bobby wasn't close enough to hear it since he was doing his snuggle bunny thing with Harry. An experimental little wiggle confirm it was solid enough and he wouldn't break anything. He didn't want to disturb the peace and have the old man yelling about respecting his shit.
The image on the TV froze and he huffed softly. "What?" He looked between two annoyed faces, a little amused despite himself. Bobby looked like a disgruntled bear but Harry almost looked like a kitten trying to be menacing. Course, he knew that kitten had claws, but it was still kinda funny.
Sam sat in the chair Dean was balanced on and shoved his brother a little so his butt wouldn't be touching his shoulder. He didn't trust his brother not to have a gun up there and he didn't really want to get shot and interrupt what appeared to be a Real Housewives marathon.
"Knock it off, Sammy," Dean muttered, giving a retaliating swat to the back of his brother's head before turning back to Harry and Bobby.
"It's a TV, ya jackass, but it ain't mine," Bobby said with an eye roll. "It's Harry's."
Dean nodded, his eyes going back to the TV. It took a minute to realize the damn thing wasn't plugged in, to anything, and he didn't know if he should be creeped out, impressed or... what. "So, are you like, hooked into anything?" he asked, leaning a little to look behind the TV better. Yeah, the no plugs thing was bizzaro.
"No," Harry said, sheepishly. He ignored Draco's snicker, refusing to acknowledge the git. It had taken a little research but once he found the right charms and runes to get a Muggle TV to work off magic, getting it 'tuned' to satellite networks wasn't much harder. He felt a little bad he wasn't paying for anything, but with how often he watched it, he figured it wasn't too bad. He broke out into laughter when Dean looked at him with something akin to reverence. "What?"
"Dude, tell me you get everything?" Dean asked, leaning forward. TVs in motels sucked; if you got lucky there was basic cable. Otherwise, it was a good day if there was a handful of clear channels. He was really sick of watching staticy, scrambled porn and reruns of the Golden Girls.
Harry shrugged. "I really don't know, I haven't watched it much."
Dean jokingly sent a silent prayer that Harry's mojo worked for pay channels. He jumped a little when seconds later Cas popped in, the familiar sound preceding his arrival going through the quiet room. The angel was there, right at his elbow, and close enough he could feel the sleeve of Cas' trench coat brush his arm.
"I didn't call you," he blurted out. He immediately felt like a complete asshole when Cas' head bowed slightly and he got that kicked puppy look. Stupid angel with those stupid, blue eyes. Now 'asshole' just got upgraded to 'an entire bag of dicks' when Cars frowned and his shoulders sagged minutely. It was seriously like kicking a fluffy, cute little puppy.
Dean rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to come up with something less dickish to say. He only managed a lame "Uh—"
"I am attuned to your prayers, Dean. You needn't always address me specifically," Castiel finally said, unsure why he felt slighted by Dean's dismissal. He knew he hadn't been mistaken; he was always listening for him and it was a little off-putting to realize it wasn't appreciated. He narrowed his eyes slightly when he noticed Dean looked about ready to fidget. Or hit something. He didn't bother stepping back, though.
Dean restrained the urge to face-palm and merely nodded, forcing a smile. He was pretty sure he looked constipated (or a little off his rocker) but Cas didn't seem to notice. It was almost creepy to hear that Cas' dial was always tuned to his brainwaves but it was sure to prove handy later. And at least he hadn't prayed for anything too perverted recently...
"Thanks, man. But it wasn't really an actual prayer," he said, feeling like an idiot when Bobby and Harry both looked at him with curious expressions. "Fuck me," he muttered under his breath, wiping a hand over his face. As if that would wipe away the flush slowly heating his face. Son of a bitch, now everyone was looking at him. He rolled his lips together and then back again with a slight pop and huffed.
"I just wished for pay channels on Harry's Mojo Network, alright?"
Bobby broke out laughing, unable to help himself. Leave it to Dean Winchester to summon his angel with a silent prayer for porn channels. Free porn channels. He gave Castiel a shrug when the angel looked to him for an explanation, doing that squinty-eyed, head cock thing. He wasn't the one abusing an angel of the Lord's attentions so he felt no real urge to explain a damn thing. That was firmly in Dean's territory of responsibilities.
And he knew Cas wouldn't get why he found the entire thing funny, anyway.
"I'm sure it does," Harry offered, trying to spare Dean more humiliation. He glanced over at Bobby when the older man started chuckling again. He gently elbowed Bobby and shook his head. He turned and he snorted softly when he realized the angel was inches away from Dean, looking intently at the Hunter and Dean looked... torn between pushing the angel away for some much desired personal space and wanting to grab the angel and do very un-angelic things.
He peeked a glance at Bobby from the corner of his eye and was very amused to notice the older man's attention was firmly on the paused TV.
"Should I continue?" Harry asked, aiming his wand towards the TV. It was so much easier than a remote, just flick and swish and he didn't have to fiddle with titchy buttons. He almost hoped Bobby would say no or just grunt noncommittally. He was curiously watching Dean and the angel from his peripheral and it was certainly more interesting than how quickly someone could bake a tower of cupcakes (he didn't want to ponder on emwhy/em someone would need so many cupcakes).
Of course, in the few moments he looked away, both men had disappeared. With a soft huff, he un-paused the TV show and settled back against Bobby.
