dashboardlite: (That's sorta hilarious.)
[personal profile] dashboardlite
A video camera, recording, is propped up on Dean's bedside table, giving any viewers a wide frame of his torso and head.  A bottle of Scotch sits next to it, half-empty.  The Doors' Touch Me is playing in the background, fairly quietly as Dean's music goes.  He's thumbing through an automobile magazine, predictably, and humming along (a wee bit off-key).  The hunter snorts when he reaches a particularly hilarious page in his reading material.  "Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me," He rolls his eyes.  "Goddamn horoscopes in my car mags?  Better be a damn good one about Aquariu-"

Dean stops - glancing down at his watch, then the magazine, then his watch again - and makes a face.

"Oh."

His eyebrows raise in surprise.

"So, uh."  He chuckles a little nervously at the camera, quirking a crooked grin.  "Looks like I'm twenty-nine today.  Time flies, huh?"

[action]

Date: 2011-02-24 05:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dashboardlite.livejournal.com
Chuckling quietly, his smile crooked, Dean watches with remarkably rapt interest as Castiel's nose crinkles and he sneezes the sugar onto Dean's shirt. He never really liked this shirt anyway, and there are better ones in the closet. Catching Cas by the elbows, laughter faltering somewhat, Dean clears his throat a little and reaches out with one hand to dust the rest of the sugar off of the angel's forehead.

"Um," He manages hoarsely, staring down at Cas. "...was hopin' it'd make you sweeter..."

[action]

Date: 2011-02-24 05:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] out-of-minutes.livejournal.com
This time it's Cas' forehead that wrinkles in confusion. This is the second time Dean has said something about Castiel having a flavor.

"Why do I need to be sweeter?" he asks, trying not to be distracted by Dean's fingers on his face.

[action]

Date: 2011-02-24 05:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dashboardlite.livejournal.com
"I dunno," Dean mumbles, distracted by Castiel's hair for a brief moment. "'Cause you're sorta uptight sometimes, an-"

He snaps his mouth shut, freezing. Dean can hear someone. Someone creeping around and spying on them. Fuck. Fuck. Helping Castiel straighten up, he automatically frowns and turns to one of the darkened doorways that leads into the kitchen.

"Who the Hell is out there?"

[action]

Date: 2011-02-24 05:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] itsahotone.livejournal.com
Ugh, not fair at all. They didn't even get to first base yet! Santana rolled her eyes, already casting this off as a waste of time. She nudged Brittany and shrugged, then tugged her hand.

Poking her head through the doorway, Santana said cheerfully, "Having a party, boys?"

[action]

Date: 2011-02-27 01:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] totallycheerio.livejournal.com
Not even some lip on lip action? Unfair. Pouting briefly, Brittany followed Santana, her tone identical to the other girls.

"I like parties."

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Dean Winchester

January 2020

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