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Summary
"All it traced on his skin was ‘Dean.’
“Yeah, I know. That's me.”
‘no’.
“No?” Dean huffed. This was starting to test his patience. “Yes, dude, or thing. Cas. I'm Dean. What do you want?”
‘you. Dean.’
Dean blinked. “Uh. What.”
All it did was repeat its last tracing. Dean coughed, suddenly feeling a little hot.
“What… do you want from me, then?”
Again, all it traced was the three letters of ‘you.’ Dean could feel himself starting to blush, the implications of wanting someone usually meant for… intimate settings."
Or: Dean's a botanist. He gets wrapped up in a messy (fun) situation when trying to clear out some weeds for a friend, Gabriel, who did not mention the weeds were sentient. And attached to an oddly horny flower.
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