I Learnt That From The Pizza Man
It had started out as an accident, a share button
accidentally pressed, a drunk fumble to undo his mistake falling short of its
intended target. He froze for several long moments, then quickly pulled the bed
covers over his naked body on the off chance that Castiel would perform one of
his obligatorily unwarranted appearances at the sight of the text. After a few
loaded minutes spent waiting for the shit to hit the fan Dean shrugged, and
reassured himself with the thought that in all likelihood the angel didn’t even
know how to open the text, let alone the hyperlink.
The next time he saw Cas the perturbed look in the angel’s eyes seemed to belie Dean’s earlier assessment of the situation, a slight shift away from their usual intense focus on Dean’s face, a hint of a question that the angel clearly didn’t know how to voice. Oh, he’d seen the message. Dean’s lip twitched slightly at the discomfort he sensed there, but said nothing of it.
That night, with an uncharacteristically evil chuckle, Dean sent off another link, chugging whiskey and grinning to himself as he imagined the frown as the angel received the message, that composed face blushing as he saw what it contained, if in fact an angel could blush. Dean coughed and quickly moved his train of thought away from the details, far too easily conjured, of those impossibly blue eyes, the turn of his lips as he – Dean quickly clicked on a video and ignored the familiar lump that rose in his throat when he allowed himself to go there, to think too much.
He didn’t know why he continued to do it, keep sending the links to those videos, the inappropriate texts late at night when he’d drunk too much to hold himself back. He staunchly refused to see any deeper reasons for his actions, it was a joke, and nothing else. A joke he would never mention to Sammy, or discuss out loud when he came into contact with the angel. A totally normal hetero joke, and the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach every time he saw Cas squirm when they locked eyes were caused by stress, or hunger, or the sport of messing with the angel. That was all. Just a joke.
“Dean Winchester, this is not funny!”
Dean grinned at the phone and struggled to resist the urge to laugh.
“Something up Cas?”
“You know exactly what is up. The gardener is currently ‘up’ the frustrated housewife.”
Dean half choked on a mouthful of beer and spluttered a laugh.
“Stop sending me pornography Dean!” The panic in the angel’s voice only served to make Dean laugh harder.