Sastiel “my brother dared me to dress up for our DND meet up with friends and I totally knocked on the wrong door, this sword is fake, please don’t call the police” AU
THE RUSHED WORDS tumbled over each other in the frenzied hurry to get out into the air as the speaker, an unfairly attractive man with tousled dark hair and incredible blue eyes that stood out against the black and purple-gray face paint that redefined his features from human to distinctly drow-like, shuffled awkwardly on Sam Winchester’s doorstep, trying and failing to look small and unimposing despite the barbarian wardrobe that revealed equally paint-adorned smooth skin over firm muscle and the “sword” he was unable to fully conceal for its size.
“Yeah, I can tell the sword is fake, though it’s pretty good for a foam prop,” Sam said absently, studying the sword with a critical eye so as not to stare too obviously at the rest of his unexpected visitor who was... gaping at him in a not-unattractive way; suddenly, Sam was rethinking his irritation at Dean for volunteering their apartment to host this week’s D&D session without asking the brother who had classes to study for that prevented him from joining in. It was even more worth it to see those blue eyes gleam with mischief and that handsome face split into a wicked grin when Sam added, “Everyone else is already in the back, so how would you like to really make an entrance?”
