#jennfic

Soft Pedro dancing with you. Couldn't help myself, I heard Dreams - Fleetwood Mac and happened to know at the same time that Pedro like this song so here we go. No proof read, just here a little drabble written on my patio being lonely as fuck

You heard the faint sound coming from the living room.

You were in the midst of writing one of the complicated chapters of your new book when your husband Pedro, decided he was bored and that you needed some time out of your office.

Entranced in your words, you jumped as you felt a presence behind you.

"Dance with me mi cielito,"

You giggle from the ridiculous fright then turned to him, "Pedro I have to finish this,"

He made his puppy eyes, holding his hand out, you look at yourself. Messy hair, glasses on, baggy shirt, baggy short. Since how long were you perched in front of your laptop, trying to find the right words, the right feelings to put into your endless work.

He lifted an eyebrow, his fingers wriggled, his soft eyes trained on you, you smiled, reaching for his hand, he kissed your forehead as you leaned onto him. Then he made you dance your way to the living room. Being goofy and adorable. You realised it was sunset already, the rays of sun streaming in via the patio, where the pool reflected the fading daylight on the ceiling.

Holding your hand against his chest he swayed with you along the rythm. He made you turn multiples times on yourself, he smiled and you couldn't help to follow, a big smile spreading on your face as you laughed and let yourself go and enjoy the warm moment.

"You know it's a sad song," you mumbled as you surrounded your arms around his middle, your chin on his chest, looking up at him.

You were still swaying but a tad slower, his hands brushing your waist.

"Hum" he nodded "But I love the rythm, and it reminds me to never let you go,"

He leaned down kissing the tip of your nose and looked at you as if you were the most beautiful woman on earth, he would surely argue that in his eyes you were, and you look at him the same way. You swayed until the song was finish and even after that.

They've beaten Vanessa and turned her in, so there shouldn't be anything left bothering Alfyn, right? And even if there is, nobody should notice it... right?

“Are you serious?”

“What?” Dean tucked in his shirt before realizing it was backwards. “Oh. Hah!” He pulled his arms in and whipped the shirt around. That’s when he realized it was Cas’s Save The Bees tee. “This isn’t even mine.”

“We’re on a fucking hunt and you’re doing the walk of shame? Right fucking now?” 

“Jeez, Sam, it’s not a big deal.”

Cas stumbled over to the Impala, cheeks flushed and an impressive bruise on his neck. “Why are we yelling?” he asked, voice way hoarser than normal and Sam didn’t even want to think about why. 

“I hate both of you.”

“Look, we’re on a stakeout. Stakeouts get boring. Cas and I--we got un-bored.”

“I don’t want to hear anything else about this. Both of you suck.”

“Well,” Dean chuckled, “Cas does.”

Toes in the sand, all three of them with a beer in hand while Jack splashed in the ocean like a child, Dean decided this is the life he should have. Period. 

“What if we just moved out here?” he asked the other two. 

Sam chuckled. “Right.”

“No, seriously. We’ll all get jobs, we’ve got the bottomless credit card, fuck it, we’ll ship my baby and all our shit out here. Let’s move.” 

“Huh.” Sam looked out at the blue green water and scratched absently at his man-bun. “You really think we can do that? Just up and move to Maui? I mean, if you’d said that months ago, I’d’ve branded you an idiot, but I mean--God is dead. Everything is...quiet.”

“Right? We’ve been here two weeks already and I don’t want to leave. You wanna leave, Sammy?”

“Fuck no.”

“How about you, Eileen?” Dean asked, signing as he spoke.

Eileen signed fuck no from where she was sprawled on a towel in a teeny white bikini. God, Dean was so glad Sam had the goddamn sense to put a ring on it.

Dean turned to Cas, sprawled out in a lounge chair. He had a tall tropical drink sweating in his hand, and his hair was styled with wind and salt water. A pair of black swim trunks rode low, exposing razor sharp hip bones. Normally bronzed skin had turned impossibly darker, and he wore a stylish pair of black Ray-bans. 

Castiel looked absolutely delicious and it made Dean’s mouth water. 

“I can’t think of a single logical reason to leave here and go back to Kansas...in the middle of winter.”

“Well, there you go.” Dean looked out at the water. “Hey Jack!” he called. “What if we stayed in Hawaii forever?”

“AWESOME!” Jack yelled back, flashing an over enthusiastic set of thumbs up. He did a backflip into the waves and all three men chuckled. 

Cas reached over and took Dean’s hand. “We’ll find a lovely little bungalow. You can cook, I’ll garden, Sam can continue digitizing research, and we’ll all live happily ever after.”

Sam scoffed loudly. “No offense, but you two are disgusting so it better be a big bungalow or better yet, a duplex.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

“Assbutts, the both of you.”

“You know that red hat won’t keep you from getting sick, right?”

“Dean--” Sam said warningly.

The big dude whipped around and gave Dean a once over. “It’s a violation of my constitutional rights--”

“Yeah yeah blah blah blah well it’s a violation of her human rights to expect her to wait on your potentially plague bearing maskless ass,” he told the guy from behind his kickass Zepp mask, nodding towards the gas station cashier. “Put your mask on or get the fuck out.”

“Says you and what army?” the asshole asked him angrily.

Dean grinned as Sam uttered a quiet fuck behind him.

Ten minutes later, they were speeding away as the sound of sirens got closer.

“What the fuck, dude?”

“Hey--if I can wear a mask while chopping off vamp heads, he can wear one to buy beef jerky!”