Priest and Angel
Evening at the motel It was dark outside. Sam went to sleep in the next room, tired of arguing about the details of the plan for the next day. Dean was left alone with Castiel and with a suit that needed to be checked before the operation. "Okay," Dean sighed, pulling his usual T-shirt over his head. "Now, wait a second..." Castiel politely turned to the window, listening to the rustle of clothes behind him. The rustle of fabric, Dean's quiet murmuring, the creaking of floorboards. "It's done," came a minute later. "Damn, this jacket is like a noose..." Why are you silent? Make a verdict. Castiel turned. And I forgot how to breathe. It wasn't Dean standing in front of him. It wasn't Dean standing in front of him, a stranger, stern, elegant, dangerous in his inaccessibility. The black suit fit like a glove, the white collar accentuating his jawline. Dean looked at him questioningly, frowning slightly, and there was not a shadow of the game in that gaze that Castiel suddenly desperately wanted to see. "Well?" Dean grinned, straightened his tie. "Is it really that bad?" Castiel opened his mouth
About Priest and Angel
Evening at the motel It was dark outside. Sam went to sleep in the next room, tired of arguing about the details of the plan for the next day. Dean was left alone with Castiel and with a suit that needed to be checked before the operation. "Okay," Dean sighed, pulling his usual T-shirt over his head. "Now, wait a second..." Castiel politely t...Read more