Today's word:
Umber
um·ber (ˈəmbər/)

a natural brown or reddish-brown earth pigment, umber is not one precise color, but a range of different colors; from medium to dark, from yellowish to reddish to grayish.

This chapter is rated K.

Enjoy.

Downtime isn't something Dean is used to anymore. Even spending it in the Bunker. But these days they have a lot of time on their hands with the (most recent) big threat gone, floating off into space like a damn cloud of doom. But it was good because Amara didn't nuke the universe, he didn't blow up like a roman candle full of souls (which is a feeling he will probably never get over and still gives him the heebie jeebies whenever he thinks about it too long).

Dean flops onto the sofa with a huff. Cas looks up from the TV for a moment, eyebrows raised in silent question. And maybe a little irritation at the interruption.

Dean is bored. And Dean hates being bored. A bored Dean is a Dean moments away from trouble.

He sighs and flops around some more, flinging himself over Cas' lap for a few moments before sitting up and turning to kick his feet over Cas' lap instead. He's nearly ready to just sit with Cas, let him work his massage mojo on his feet, but he's restless and twitching a few minutes later.

Dean fidgets, feet tapping together and swaying in Cas' lap, and tries his hand at making drip noises with his mouth.

He's just starting to get it when Cas shoos him away, that annoyed furrow between his eyebrows as he tells Dean to "go find something else to do if he's not going to let him watch in peace".

Dean nearly snorts. If there was something to do, he wouldn't be bored dammit. But he goes. Because Cas paused the show just to give him a pissy look and he really doesn't want to push his luck and wind up sleeping on the lumpy couch.

Sam is out (with Eileen, no doubt, even though Sam was very careful not to say as much), so he wanders the Bunker for something to do. There are still a few rooms they haven't looked into fully, apparently, when he wanders down a hallway just past the garage door and he finds something that looks (and smells) like a woodworking room.

He feels along the wall for a light switch, flicking it and looking around. Huh. The room, like most in the Bunker, is well stocked. There's everything from huge table saws to the smallest chisel sets. It strikes him as odd before he figures it actually makes sense; the Men of Letters have tons of fancy boxes, for pretty much everything, and supernatural carvings they probably didn't want someone else knowing about. Easier to make your own boxes for cursed objects than deal with questions.

The room is well lit and huge, cavernous almost, to keep all the equipment and a huge shelving unit full of all kinds of wood.

He looks around again, hands on his a thoughtful expression on his face. It's been awhile since he's done anything with his hands and he's bored enough to not give a shit about splinters and sawdust all over him.

Cas finds him a few hours later. Dean would wonder how, but after so many years of it, he's just happy Cas manages it.
He looks up from the small table he's sanding to see Cas in the doorway, looking at him with his head tilted, eyes warm. He switches off the sander and slides the goggles up to his forehead.

"Found something to do I see," Castiel says as he walks over to Dean. Dean grins at him and he can't help but smile back. Dean looks content and happy with himself. It's wonderful to see, especially after the way he's been stomping around the Bunker recently. He's not at all surprised to see Dean has talented hands, even with wood. (He smiles to himself as he imagines the inappropriate joke Dean would make about that.)

He looks at the table Dean's leaning on and raises his eyebrows. "It's lovely, Dean," he says sincerely, looking up to see Dean's cheeks pink and eyes averted at the compliment.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean says, clearing his throat and fighting the urge to fidget.

He's still getting used to Cas saying shit like that, with that warm tone in his voice and those blue eyes all sincere and bright with unveiled feelings. Cas doesn't bother censoring himself now that they're basically a proper damn couple and he doesn't have the heart to ask him to stop. It embarrasses the hell out of him but it also makes him feel like he's almost earned it when Cas says it like it's irrefutable fact.

He realizes they're staring—again—and looks away to get his thoughts back on track. He runs a careful hand over the table's surface, sneaking a glance at Cas. "It's for you."

Castiel hums appreciatively and smiles. "Thank you, Dean."

"I mean, it's not done yet," Dean points out, feeling like he needs to explain that it'll be better. Good enough. "I wanna add a little drawer," he says, pointing to the front where he's already chiseled out the tracks. He's still deciding on color. There's a damn rainbow of stain colors in the supply room; from light pine to dark cherry. He thinks Cas will like umber and it'll go with most of the furniture in their room, too. "And I wanna try the lathe out for the legs," he says, nodding at the plain square legs. "These are just temp—"

Castiel shuts Dean's ramblings up with a kiss, sliding his hand up to gently slide through Dean's hair and cup the back of his head. Once Dean relaxes into the kiss, returns it with enthusiasm, he pulls back with a bright smile. Dean looks dazed, as he usually does when Castiel surprises him with a kiss or tender touch.

"I'm sure it'll be beautiful and I look forward to receiving it."

Dean blinks slowly, brain coming back online after a moment. He has to wonder if Cas puts some mojo in his kisses that makes them scramble his brain like this.

"Awesome," he says with a grin.

Castiel spares a moment to enjoy the bright smile, fondness making him warm all over when it makes Dean's eyes crinkle happily, before backing away. As tempting as it is to stay and watch, he doesn't want to be a distraction.

"I'll let you get back to it."

Dean nearly argues, wanting to snag Cas by the belt loops for another kiss, but he does want to finish sanding the top of the table. It's nearly midnight and he doesn't wanna be here all night instead of in bed with Cas.

He nods and lowers his goggles again, winking when he sees Cas blatantly looking him over before heading out.