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“These are much more comfortable than I expected. Thank you for purchasing these for me, Dean.”
Dean looked up from his laptop to see Cas standing there in a faded green t-shirt and a pair of jeans - a pair of jeans almost TOO snug on his wiry frame. Cas did a strange little wiggle then looked up at Dean and made a little flourish with his hands, eyebrows raised as if seeking approval. Dean was reminded of Cas in the hotel room when he cleaned up after Purgatory. Dean quickly aborted that line of thought.
He cleared his throat. “Uh yeah Cas, no problem. Now that you’re gonna be around I figured you should ditch the dorky angel duds and put on proper hunter gear.”
“These denim trousers seem a little form-fitting, though. Will they be flexible enough to allow me sufficient range of movement?”
Without waiting for an answer, Cas started performing a couple of deep lunges, a small frown of concentration on his face.
Dean looked over at Sam, who appeared to be fighting a losing battle against a big grin. He looked back just in time to get an eyeful of Cas’ rear end as the man bent over and did a couple toe touches.
Dean shifted uncomfortably in his chair, conscious of Sam’s strangled laughter from across the room.
“Yes, these will do nicely,” Cas said approvingly, still bent over touching his toes.
“Guh,” Dean agreed.