Cas ran his fingers through Dean’s short locks, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth and then trailing his lips down Dean’s freckled chest.
“You know, they say freckles are angel kisses.”
Dean smiled. “That true?”
“Let’s find out.” Cas smirked, sliding his hands down Dean’s sides. “Because I’m going to mark you up.”
You jumped when two hands reached from behind you and grabbed your laptop. “Hey!”
“Whatcha workin’ on, kiddo?” Dean held the computer right out of your reach.
“Dean, give it back!” You pounded at your older brother’s chest, to no avail. “Don’t read that!”
You watched as Dean’s facial expressions morphed from interest, from confusion, to embarrassment. “Y/N, what the hell is this?”
You sighed, rolling your eyes. “What does it look like, dipshit?”
“Hey,” Dean smacked you on the side of the head, “watch your language. And I don’t know, you tell me.”
You stuck your tongue out at him. “Read it and find out for yourself.” Dean was about to shoot back a response when a gust of wind interrupted him.
“Hello, Dean. Is this the case you were telling me about over the phone?” Cas suddenly appeared out of nowhere, taking the computer from Dean’s hands and quickly skimming over the document before Dean snatched it back.
“Dammit, Cas! Don’t look at that!”
You grinned. “What’dya think, Cas?”
Castiel squinted at you. “I don’t know where you’re getting your information from, but freckles do not come from angel kisses.”
“Seriously, dude? That’s the problem that you have with this?”
“You just don’t know what you’re talking about.” You grinned up at your brother. “Sam loves my stories. He captains the Destiel fanship.”
“Destiel? Sam-” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “SAM!”
You sat back in your chair, watching the scene unfold with a smile on your face, Dean yelling at Sam to “get the hell in here” while Cas was intently focused on reading what you’d written. This was going to be a fun night.