#smoop

They stay curled up on the couch all evening. The sun slowly sinks until it's fallen behind the trees and is colouring the windows and walls with fading warmth. Cas and Dean don't move, knowing the world doesn't need them. Cas cradles a hand behind Dean's head, resting against his chest, treading his rough fingers through the hunters hair. Dean hums and snoozes, pressing closer into Cas's side at the elluring feeling. The scratch of Deans unshaved jaw makes Cas smile, so happy to feel any part of Dean against his body.

They'd spent the day out back, chopping and storing wood for the forth coming season. The trees and grass were still high, the cicadas hollering from every corner, but snow would be here before too long; and they would be ready. They grew sweaty and tired, and afterwards, stripped their cloths in laughter. Dean giggled and Cas chased him, playfully attempting to grab his ass. When Cas did catch Dean, they spent a few good minutes, pressed against the cabin wall, hot and sweaty bodies consuming each other. They cried out in pleasure to no one's ears, it echoing out into the vast emptiness. Here on the ranch, the were safe from everything. Heaven could wait, as Cas said, while he slipped his hand into Dean's.

The night came, and Castiel fell asleep in Dean's strong arms. His breaths evened out until he was lightly snoring. Their feet tangled together, occasionally rubbing against each other, poking out from under the short couch blanket. Dean watching the tv on low, to not wake Cas. Deans fingers wrapped tight around Castiels forearm, fingers moving tenderly up and down in soothing motion.

Love blooms between them. Hanging in the air, it infuses the cabin, brightening the small space.

They'd moved here to retire, to get away from the continuous noise of the hunter and angel life. Bobby and Sam knew where to find them. That was enough. The cabin rested nearby a town, though not so close they could walk. Unless, of course, they were going to take the day, to take in the nature surrounding them. It was a hike in every direction, secluded.

Hannibal returns Mason’s smile, but it quickly disappears as he continues examining Mason’s leg. His husband comes from good stock and therefore has strong bones, lean muscle. With the diet that Hannibal quietly insists Mason follow, his meat must taste sweet.

“It’s nearly midday. I’ve made brunch.”

“Aw. How sweet.” Mason rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and pushes himself to sit upright. Hannibal’s hand on his leg tickle pleasantly and he pushes his foot forward to press his toes against Hannibal’s chest.

My muse is asleep. Go into my ask box and wake them up however you'd like.

The light from the window gilds the backs of his eyelids. Mason takes a deep breath and sighs, he curls his hands against the bed covers and stretches his toes. “Feels good,” he mumbles, still hoarse with sleep. He pries an eye open and looks at Hannibal standing at the end of the bed, and smiles.

Whooooo naw I’m gonna extend the party and take an early weekend! Finally done with my uni work so I can officially (mostly) ragequit guilt-free!