Dean tried to ignore that, as was frequently the case, Castiel was standing uncomfortably close. “No gas stations between here and Missoula, so remind me to…” From the corner of his eye Dean saw a tuft of dark hair and he glanced over, only to get a very close view of Castiel’s face peering intently at his. “Cas? What are you looking at?”
“You have freckles.”
Dean’s hand was already halfway up to his face as though to brush them off before he realized it and let it drop. “Yeah, so?”
“I have never noticed them before.” Castiel was, if anything, closer, his nose nearly touching Dean’s cheek. “How is it I’ve never noticed them?”
“Um.” Dean felt himself going cross-eyed as he continued to try and watch Castiel’s intent observation. “Hell if I know. They usually only show up in the summer.”
Dean closed his eyes. “Cas, stop - stop stroking my face.”
“You even have them on your ears.”
“Cas.” The problem was, he didn’t sound very insistent. The angel’s inquisitive fingers were surprisingly gentle, leaving a silk-soft trail of remembered touch behind them as they played over his earlobe. The hairs at the back of his neck stood up as he sensed more than felt Castiel switch sides to investigate the other ear.
You could kiss him right now.
The thought came unbidden, unannounced, suddenly looming large in his mind like an enormous echo. Dean’s eyes flew open and he took a step back, raising his hands to ward off Castiel’s attentions. “Woah. Okay. That’s enough of that.”
He wasn’t sure whether he was addressing Castiel or himself, but either way, he felt a vague disappointment that he turned all his attentions to denying as he yanked open the door of the Impala.