“So Valentine’s Day is like… so dumb, right?”

Dean’s ostensibly random query breaks through the comfortable tranquility they’ve settled into as they laze in bed, just enjoying the afterglow and each other’s touch, Dean’s head comfortably cradled against Castiel’s bare chest. Castiel’s caught off-guard by the non sequitur, his fingers abruptly pausing as they stroke through Dean’s hair.

He was aware, of course, that Dean’s mind had been wandering, as it often does, but that certainly wasn’t what Castiel expected to be the focus of his stray thoughts. He resumes his leisurely caressing and mulls over his response, eventually circling back to his first instinct. “Is… that a trick question?”

“So Valentine’s Day is like… so dumb, right?”

Dean’s ostensibly random query breaks through the comfortable tranquility they’ve settled into as they laze in bed, just enjoying the afterglow and each other’s touch, Dean’s head comfortably cradled against Castiel’s bare chest. Castiel’s caught off-guard by the non sequitur, his fingers abruptly pausing as they stroke through Dean’s hair.

He was aware, of course, that Dean’s mind had been wandering, as it often does, but that certainly wasn’t what Castiel expected to be the focus of his stray thoughts. He resumes his leisurely caressing and mulls over his response, eventually circling back to his first instinct. “Is… that a trick question?”

“Should practically be waking up with your dick already in me,” Dean adds. It’s a joke, Castiel assumes, an off-hand, off-color comment, but then he continues, with sort of a dreamy sigh. “Mmm. That’d be hot, though.” Castiel is suddenly reevaluating everything Dean was just rambling about. “I—” he attempts, fingers abruptly pausing as they trace patterns on the crown of Dean’s head. “Really?” “Sure. ’S a thing people do. Like if I woke you up by blowing you. What’s the difference?” It seems like a tremendous difference, actually. One Castiel is horribly intrigued by.

“Should practically be waking up with your dick already in me,” Dean adds. It’s a joke, Castiel assumes, an off-hand, off-color comment, but then he continues, with sort of a dreamy sigh. “Mmm. That’d be hot, though.” Castiel is suddenly reevaluating everything Dean was just rambling about. “I—” he attempts, fingers abruptly pausing as they trace patterns on the crown of Dean’s head. “Really?” “Sure. ’S a thing people do. Like if I woke you up by blowing you. What’s the difference?” It seems like a tremendous difference, actually. One Castiel is horribly intrigued by.

“Should practically be waking up with your dick already in me,” Dean adds. It’s a joke, Castiel assumes, an off-hand, off-color comment, but then he continues, with sort of a dreamy sigh. “Mmm. That’d be hot, though.” Castiel is suddenly reevaluating everything Dean was just rambling about. “I—” he attempts, fingers abruptly pausing as they trace patterns on the crown of Dean’s head. “Really?” “Sure. ’S a thing people do. Like if I woke you up by blowing you. What’s the difference?” It seems like a tremendous difference, actually. One Castiel is horribly intrigued by.

“So, you’re gonna just… whammy the stress right out of me?” “I might phrase it more delicately than that,” Cas replies patiently. “But yes.” “Really? You can do that?” Dean is intrigued.

“So, you’re gonna just… whammy the stress right out of me?” “I might phrase it more delicately than that,” Cas replies patiently. “But yes.” “Really? You can do that?” Dean is intrigued.

“So, you’re gonna just… whammy the stress right out of me?” “I might phrase it more delicately than that,” Cas replies patiently. “But yes.” “Really? You can do that?” Dean is intrigued.

“So Valentine’s Day is like… so dumb, right?”

Dean’s ostensibly random query breaks through the comfortable tranquility they’ve settled into as they laze in bed, just enjoying the afterglow and each other’s touch, Dean’s head comfortably cradled against Castiel’s bare chest. Castiel’s caught off-guard by the non sequitur, his fingers abruptly pausing as they stroke through Dean’s hair.

He was aware, of course, that Dean’s mind had been wandering, as it often does, but that certainly wasn’t what Castiel expected to be the focus of his stray thoughts. He resumes his leisurely caressing and mulls over his response, eventually circling back to his first instinct. “Is… that a trick question?”

“So Valentine’s Day is like… so dumb, right?”

Dean’s ostensibly random query breaks through the comfortable tranquility they’ve settled into as they laze in bed, just enjoying the afterglow and each other’s touch, Dean’s head comfortably cradled against Castiel’s bare chest. Castiel’s caught off-guard by the non sequitur, his fingers abruptly pausing as they stroke through Dean’s hair.

He was aware, of course, that Dean’s mind had been wandering, as it often does, but that certainly wasn’t what Castiel expected to be the focus of his stray thoughts. He resumes his leisurely caressing and mulls over his response, eventually circling back to his first instinct. “Is… that a trick question?”

Inspired by the gag reel pics. You know the ones I mean.

Dean’s in the garage giving his Baby a good scrub-down when Cas sidles up behind him, wrapping his thick arms around Dean’s waist, rumbling, “What are you wearing?” into Dean’s ear. Dean immediately stops what he’s doing, leans into Cas’s embrace and huffs out a breathy laugh. “You know what shorts are, Cas.”

Cas damn near purrs as he noses along Dean’s hairline. “I like these,” he confesses, his soft mouth and scratchy stubble teasing the sensitive skin of Dean’s neck. “I can see so much of you,” he adds, and his hands are already everywhere, one snaking up Dean’s t-shirt and the other wandering down to stroke high on the back of Dean’s leg, fingers toying with the fraying hemline of his shorts.

“So Valentine’s Day is like… so dumb, right?”

Dean’s ostensibly random query breaks through the comfortable tranquility they’ve settled into as they laze in bed, just enjoying the afterglow and each other’s touch, Dean’s head comfortably cradled against Castiel’s bare chest. Castiel’s caught off-guard by the non sequitur, his fingers abruptly pausing as they stroke through Dean’s hair.

He was aware, of course, that Dean’s mind had been wandering, as it often does, but that certainly wasn’t what Castiel expected to be the focus of his stray thoughts. He resumes his leisurely caressing and mulls over his response, eventually circling back to his first instinct. “Is… that a trick question?”