Fucking mosquitoes

Author: PlumePlume

Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to its creators and I do not profit economically from this story.

Spoiler: not really

Pairing: Pre-slash Destiel

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Just a silly idea that came to me as I was being eaten alive by mosquitoes, during a heatwave. Unfortunately, unlike Dean, no angel came to rescue me... Anyway! I hope you'll enjoy!


Fucking mosquitoes


"Zzzzzzz…"

"Oh, you son of a bitch…"

The hand of the hunter slapped forcefully into the mattress. Dean waited one or two seconds before glancing under his palm.

Nothing.

"Damn it…"

His watch, resting on the nightstand, emitted a discreet beep. Dean let out a growl. He didn't need his damn watch to remind him that it was two freakin' am, and that, even after slaughtering an entire vampire nest, he hadn't been able to get more than a few minutes of sleep since he came back. Three hours ago.

All because of this bloody flying spawn of Satan.

Damn he hated mosquitoes.

At this point, he was really tempted to drive to the nearest Walmart to get some insecticide. If only he wasn't so tired.

And if it wasn't so hot!

Even at the middle the night, it was still more than 90 degrees in the room… Dean had tossed aside the thin blanket provided by the motel and stripped to his boxers but he was still drenched in sweat, damping the sheets and the pillow. Though this highly uncomfortable situation would have been bearable, if it weren't for this fucking mosquito that kept coming buzz near his ear!

The hunter pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled.

Something landed on his thigh.

Dean slapped.

Dean slapped something.

He let out a victorious laugh.

With a huge smirk, he shook the dead mosquito off his palm and reshaped a bit his pillow before laying his weary head on it, in a satisfied sigh.

.

.

.

Something was itchy. Scratch scratch. Hm… Nice… Eh? More itchy. More scratch!

Dean slowly woke up again… Then realized his hand was furiously scratching his thigh. And his back began to feel itchy too.

"Oh! Come on!"

Dean cursed loudly as he stretched his other arm to reach the mosquito bite on his back. And, because it wouldn't be funny otherwise, his fingers barely reached the itchy point. Another string of chosen words later, Dean found himself rubbing his back against the mattress, as his other hand was scratching his thigh. This was getting ridiculous…

A buzzing flew near his ear.

"Ok. That's it. You won, you son of a bitch."

Dean got up and made a beeline for the bathroom. A cold shower would soothe the itching. And cool him down.

Under the cool water spray, it felt like Heaven. But Dean didn't take two steps out of the bathroom that the heatwave hit him.

"Aaaannnnddd back to sweating time. Fan-freaking-tastic…"

He dropped onto his bed and closed his eyes. At least he wasn't itchy anymore.

.

.

.

He was back half-asleep when the itching started again. Thigh, back… shoulder… Feet (Bastards! He needed them to walk!)… Calve… Finger (What the fuck?!)…

But Dean was past the point of giving a damn. He let himself fall back asleep (an itchy sleep but a sleep nonetheless).

Flap.

The familiar noises stirred Dean's mind. Wings… Wings?

He opened an eye. And flinched violently.

"Dammit Cas! How many times do I have to tell you! That's just creepy!"

The angel, sat on the edge of the bed, tilted his head.

Dean glanced at the window and sighed. It was still dark outside. He rubbed his face, dying to fall asleep again.

"What time is it, anyway?" he muttered, rolling to turn his back to the angel.

"Quarter to five am."

"What?! We agreed you wouldn't pop up before six! Damn it!"

"Yes but I sensed a great agitation in your soul and-"

"A great agitation to my- You know what? Why don't you take an angelic stroll, go watch the bees or whatever you want, and I go back to my beauty sleep? Hm?"

Even without facing Cas, Dean could see his brows frowning. The hunter sighed.

"What?"

"You're… hurt?"

"What?! I'm not hurt! I mean, I might have some bruises from the vampire nest but it's nothing."

Something awoken to Dean.

"Wait a minute, Cas… You're not sent by Sammy, by any chance? Because if this is the case, you can tell him to mind his own freaking business with Eileen and leave me alone. I might be over forty but I am still able to take down a vampire nest on my own!"

His question was answered by an exasperated sighed.

"No Dean, as I said, it is your upset soul that brought me here."

"My soul is not upset!"

"Yes it is."

"For fuck's sake, Cas. I just want to sleep!"

Dean felt the angel was hesitating. The hunter sighed and rolled over to face him.

"I swear I'm not hurt, Cas. Go back to your bees…"

Cas extended a hand toward his thigh and Dean recoiled instantaneously.

"What do you think you're doing, exactly?!"

Cas's concerned gaze met his.

"I just wanted to heal your injuries. I can feel it is bothering you."

"It's no-" Dean interrupted himself and rolled his eyes. "You know what, heal all you want, but in silence, so I can go back to sleep."

Cas thanked him with a bright sincere smile. Dean looked away. Stupid adorable angel…

Cas's fingers lingered above his thigh before softly touching it. Dean shivered at the contact. Then realized.

"You're cold! You fucking freezing, man!?"

Cas looked at both his hands, puzzled.

"I… I don't know. I am not keeping my vessel's temperature in check, since my grace is keeping it alive anyway."

"Well, good for you! I wish I was as cold as you…" sighed Dean, while wiping the sweat off his forehead.

Cas's face scrunched in concentration, then he sighed.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I cannot cool down your body temperature. The process would interfere with the energy levels of your atoms and it is too risky. You might explode…"

Dean gulped.

"Yeah, better not…"

Cas's hand pressed a little again his thigh and Dean felt the familiar rush of grace running through his entire body, soothing all the little bruises and, more importantly, the numerous mosquito bites. Dean let out a downright obscene moan. Cas's face flushed red.

"Man, it feels so good… Oh… Didn't realize how painful these fucking mosquito bites had become…"

He sighed again. Cas removed his hand from his thigh and Dean immediately missed the cold touch.

All the painful itching being gone, it was only leaving the deep tiredness, and Dean could already feel himself drift into sleep.

Dean woke up hugging a huge soft pillow. He felt surrounded by a blissful coolness and absolutely no stupid mosquito to bother him… Perfection…

Then he felt the pillow bending a little, and beginning to soothingly fondle his hair. Lost in the divine comfort of his cocoon, it took a solid minute to Dean to realize something was wrong.

Dean's eyes flew open. He felt himself blushed from head to toe, as he took in the position he ended up in.

Which was: literally lying on Cas, his face nestled in the crook of his neck, their legs intertwined, one hand in Cas's hair (that turned out to be surprisingly soft), and the other resting on his chest.

Dean's hand disappeared from Cas's hair and he started wiggling to hurry off the angel.

Angel who was staring at him with a tiny smirk. Bastard.

"Hello Dean, did you sleep well? You seemed very comfortable on me and refused to let me go."

"Hm, yeah, thanks… Sorry for that." muttered Dean, as he got up. "And, not a word to Sammy, okay ?"

"Of course."

Cas's amused smirk followed Dean as he made his way to the bathroom. The hunter could feel his ears burning of embarrassment.

Fucking mosquitoes…


Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it! :)