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Dean saw Castiel shuffling towards him and smiled, scooting over a little on the couch of the motel room. They were working a case together while Sam was out of state. They needed the alone time; they’ve barely been getting any lately. Sam, thankfully, was more than happy to go off on his own for a couple of weeks while they took care of this.
The case was simple – witches. Fuck, Dean hated witches, but the last one cast a little spell on Cas, and well… he had to admit he totally dug it. Normally, he’d march into every suspect’s house, guns blazing, until he found the witch and killed her, but this spell wasn’t harmful. Not really. It was supposed to wear off at least by the next day, giving her time to leave town. Apparently, this witch hasn’t even killed anyone, and it was the other members of her coven who did the dirty work. She swore she’d stay away from hardcore spells, and would undo the spell she put on Cas when she arrived at a permanent destination.
Dean didn’t mind waiting.
Castiel sat on the couch next to Dean, moving in close to him. He blushed and put his arm around the angel as he stuck his face in the crook of his neck quickly. Cas swiped his tongue a couple of times on the skin before nuzzling and pulling back. Dean scratched on his back a little and the angel shot up, seemingly pleasured by this. Dean continued to gently scratch his back and neck and run his hand through his hair. Cas climbed into Dean’s lap, curling up and playing with the couch cushion.
“So, when is this spell going to, uh,” Castiel yawned, “Wear off?”
Dean sighed and looked down at his angel. “By tomorrow afternoon, probably. I dunno, I’m kinda liking it.”
“Dean, I don’t understand how you like me resembling the mannerisms and behaviors of a domestic house cat.” The hunter scoffed.
“C’mon. Say that again. I mean, I’m allergic to cats, but that’s actual cats. Those sons of bitches.” Castiel’s hair was ruffled and messy, his trench coat in a pile on the floor. He was rolling around the motel carpet earlier that day, and the only way he got him to quit it was offering him a huge plastic bowl of milk. Dean pulled Cas up to him off his lap and held him close, kissing his forehead. “You don’t make me sneeze. I like you.”
Castiel flushed bright red. Could angels blush? It was probably the spell. The angel pushed his head around on Dean’s chest over his shirt, kissing and licking up his neck, and the dude actually purred in Dean’s ear.
It was probably the second hottest thing someone’s ever done to him. The first being, well… Cas was a cat, Dean liked wearing pink panties.
Once.
Dean grabbed Castiel’s face and kissed him on the lips, and Cas swiped his tongue on Dean’s chapped lips. God, he could totally live with this. “You’re adorable.”
“I’m a warrior of God, Dean.” Purr. “Although, it would be very ignorant to even make such a… such a…” Yawn. “Remark.”
“Cas. Just take the compliment.”
“Take it where?”
Dean blinked and scratched the back of Castiel’s head; a tiny little moan that almost sounded like a meow escaped his mouth before his eyes fluttered shut. “Yeah. I could dig this.”