Hello! Not even sure if I'm early or late or on time but I wanted to get this done before gishwhes starts. Yes, I am doing gishwhes. Yes, I am a bit terrified. By the time I upload the next chapter I'll have almost finished the hunt and maybe I shall be a changed person, enlightened and transformed by all the weirdass shit I've done in the name of Misha. We'll see.

This is a short chapter but I hope (oh chuck I really hope) that the content makes up for it...? I can't tell at all if this chapter is at all good or is utterly cringeworthy. Be kind to me, dear readers. Plz.

To make up for this short and potentially terrible chapter, I am about to upload a rather cute ficlet called 'On the Job'. I like it and it's lighthearted and I encourage you to check it out :) Happy gishwhes, whether you're participating or hiding in a nuclear bunker for the duration! xxx

I let Dean tell me the story of Sam and Jess's first kiss as though I haven't heard it before, chuckling quietly at the faint pride in his voice as he describes Sam's 'smooth' maneuvering.

"Oh, man, I remember when he first told me about her on the phone, before they started dating" Dean is saying, eyes crinkled in a fond grin. "Talk about lovesick puppy! Couldn't stop raving about this smart, gorgeous, amazing girl he'd met and how she actually talked to him and how she liked the same nerdy-ass books and shit. It took me months of phone calls to convince him that he was in with a chance if he asked her out. Thought he was never gonna get it together."

I raise my eyebrows. "We've known each other for over five years."

Dean flushes, glancing away. "OK, point taken. But come on, who can resist Sam?"

"Are you implying that in contrast with Sam, you are easy to resist?" I furrow my brow at him. "I can assure you that's not the case."

Dean is blushing more than ever but to his credit, he meets my eyes directly, his voice full of false confidence. "Oh yeah? So all I've ever had to do was play a few songs and it would've been in the bag? Now you tell me, huh?"

My grasp of human phrases and sayings is growing by the day. "I believe it was 'in the bag' from the moment I raised you from perdition, Dean."

That breaks his resolve and he huffs and scoffs as he looks away again, practically glowing bright red. I grin affectionately at him as I continue. "But to tell you the truth, I already knew that story about Sam and Jess. He told me. I was actually planning to emulate his cunning strategy tonight."

Dean frowns at me for a moment before understanding dawns on his face. "My songs. That's why you had my songs?"

I nod sheepishly, feeling mildly embarrassed but certain that Dean will be amused by my admission. "Yes."

"Which one?" he asks me, sitting forward and crossing his own legs as he shifts to face me fully, mirroring me. The pose is so unlike Dean that I pause before replying, staring at him.

"Uh, 'Can't fight this feeling'. By-"

"REO Speedwagon?" he interrupts, raising an eyebrow sceptically at me. "Really?"

Before I can respond, Dean's face freezes in apparent horror. "Oh, shit. That's the song I ruined with my rambling, isn't it? You picked it out and then I started going on about how I used to have a thing for Jo... ah, fuck. I'm sorry, Cas, I'm crap at this stuff-"

"It's fine," I cut across him, shaking my head and smiling. "That song already has meaning for you. It's good that you told me those things and I'm glad that you have a nice way to remember Jo. It's better that I didn't, um, kiss you. During that song, I mean..."

I trail off, a little breathless because he's so close and he's staring at me, examining my face as though it's utterly fascinating, biting his lip enough to draw my eyes. He releases the full, pink flesh slowly from between white teeth and my own lips part as I watch intently, momentarily forgetting that I'm being observed in return. I see Dean's throat bob as he gulps and I raise my eyes to find him watching me, his irises turned a deep forest colour by abruptly dilated pupils.

"Well," he murmurs almost huskily, and I shiver. "I do have an alternative song in mind."

"Alternative song...?" I repeat in almost a whisper, feeling a now-familiar light-headedness wash over me. Dean smirks and breaks our stare as he twists around to pick up my phone, still playing music in the background. A few swipes and taps later a different song plays, the first track on the listing. I was too nervous to pay much attention to it when it played as I was waiting for Dean so I'm not entirely sure how it goes. Dean puts the phone back down and turns back to me.

"This has made me think of you a couple of times," he explains in a mutter, eyes darting across the bed instead of looking at me. I nod slowly, torn between trying to work out which song it is and trying to catch Dean's eye again. As the singing begins on the track Dean finally looks up, his gaze slightly anxious.

"So..."

I squint at him, confused. "So?"

He sighs impatiently. "I put a song on for you."

My squint deepens. "Yes, you did."

"Cas." Dean closes his eyes, shaking his head in apparent disbelief. "You had a plan for during a song, remember?"

I think about it and suck in my breath as I realise what he's saying. The track plays on, chosen by Dean because he claims it reminds him of me. As I hesitate, the lyrics from the song fill the silence between us:

I need you by my side

To tell me it's alright

'Cause I don't think I can take anymore

Is this love?

That I'm feeling?

A feeling of total adoration spreads through me, reaching unprecedented levels. Swooping forward, I press my lips to Dean's.

He jerks back slightly as we make contact but I follow him insistently, our mouths fitting together smoothly as I tilt my head to make sure our noses don't bump. I break away just because I'm not sure what else to do and Dean is the one to follow this time, sinking plush lips against mine and pursing them slightly. He pulls back only to reclaim me a second later, his movements increasingly eager and ardent. His hands settle comfortably on my knees, which are almost touching his own. I instinctively cover them with my own palms and Dean's fingers twitch lightly under my touch. My eyes flutter closed.

Inhaling deeply through my nose, I quickly decide that for now I ought to just copy whatever Dean does with his mouth because it feels very pleasant to me. Dean opens his lips slowly and gradually, the sensation imbued with the mild taste of beer and the same gentle teasing that I often hear in his voice. I make a happy sort of humming noise without meaning to and Dean pulls back to huff with laughter before kissing me again, harder this time. He pulls one hand free from under mine and then I feel his touch on my neck, hesitant and warm. I'm not sure how to encourage him with my verbal abilities limited as they are so I lace my fingers through those on his other hand, still resting on my right knee.

This seems to work well; a moment later the light brushes on my neck have become a firm palm cupping the skin, fingertips massaging the hair at my nape. I groan a little breathlessly, taken aback by how good it feels. For the first time since initiating the encounter I push back against Dean, kissing him rather than being kissed. Dean makes an indistinct noise and I'm rewarded for my efforts by his fingers running deliberately and firmly up through my hair, fisting at the crown to tilt my head back slightly. This time, I moan loudly and I'm up on my knees before I can think about it, both my hands coming up to frame Dean's face as I lean down into the kiss.

"Cas-" Dean gasps against my parted lips, but a moment later my tongue swipes against his and his hands settle on my hips, grip tight. His mouth breaks from mine and he scrambles to his knees as well, kissing messily down my neck as he moves, tugging harshly at my belt loops. I let my head tip back, my mind utterly focused on physical sensation because it's all that's worth thinking about right now. Dean is so close, so open, so beautiful and everything feels so overwhelmingly amazing. Even this blurred train of thought stutters to a halt as Dean shifts forward on his knees, pressing us together from chest to thigh as his lips brush softly just below my ear. My hands slip numbly down his back, clutching fistfuls of his shirt.

It's no surprise that we're both half-hard, although I didn't even register my developing erection until now. It abruptly has most of my attention as Dean pushes his hips forward, his hands slipping around and down to ghost over my backside. He retreats quickly back up, though, resting one hand on the small of my back and moving the other to run through my hair again. I make a sound close to a whimper and twist my head to reclaim his mouth, trying not to grind against him although it's extremely difficult to control my impulses at this point. I bring my hands to his waist, partly to steady myself and partly to pull him impossibly closer, mumbling a mindless plea for more into Dean's mouth as his fingers attempt to untangle from my hair.

Quite suddenly, I'm pushed both sideways and back, landing with a thump in the centre of the bed. I blink up at Dean, who leans over me with wild, gleaming eyes and a heaving chest, arms bracketing my shoulders. I'm panting too, skin heated and thoughts muddled.

"Cas..." Dean breathes, staring down at me with something like disbelief or possibly even wonder in his gaze. I furrow my brow at him.

"Yes?" I ask. Dean's expression transforms into amusement and he drops down to kiss me again, smiling against my lips, the touch light and affectionate. I smile too, running my hands up and down his sides, trying not to squirm with the sheer exhilarating joy bubbling up inside me. This is really happening to me. Dean wants me. Dean needs me. Dean-

"Fuck," I exclaim indistinctly against Dean's mouth as, with no warning, he settles down with a thigh between my legs and surges enthusiastically against me. My hips buck and I toss my head to the side, momentarily overwhelmed. Dean seems far less affected, chuckling in a deep, distracting way as he kisses down my throat. The sound reverberates through me and I think dazedly that this is definitely how I want to spend the majority of my time from now on, underneath Dean with his warmth wrapping around me and his breath on my skin.

"Relax, this is only second base," he murmurs in my ear before biting gently at the lobe. I suck in an unsteady breath.

"I still don't know what that - oh -"

The light nipping at my earlobe turns into gentle sucking, which is not something that would have occurred to me to do but is quite delightful. Dean moves down to my pulse point and re-applies the technique there, getting a little more aggressive. I tip my head back, eagerly offering Dean more skin to which to attach his mouth. I breathe his name in a pleading tone and he bites down where my neck meets my shoulder, drawing a startled groan from me. I'm not sure why what should be a painful shock is pleasurable for me right now, but I am certain that I have never been so aroused in my entire existence, even when touching myself.

Dean is rolling his hips in a slow, steady rhythm, making a wordless mumbling sound which is swallowed up when he kisses me deeply. I draw one knee up and dig my heel into the bed, arching my back to press against the man above me. Quite by accident, my hands slip to the hem of Dean's shirt and I tug it up without thinking about it, concentrating as I am on breathing through my nose to avoid breaking contact with Dean's tongue.

The sound that Dean makes when I run my hands up his bare back is muffled but very encouraging. I relish the sensation of smooth, warm skin under my palms, firmly dragging my touch from the edge of his belt all the way up to his shoulder blades, flexing against my fingers. As I rub one hand against the dip in his lower back and trace his spine with the other, Dean's movements against me become a little more frantic, muscles bunching and clenching. He tears his mouth from mine to moan in my ear and I press desperate kisses to his jaw, stubble scratching and burning against my lips. It feels good. It all feels so incredibly good.

Without warning, Dean backs off, leaving the space between us cold and empty.