The pool lights shown bright beneath your feet as you and Sam sat dangling your feet over the edge of the pool for some sort of relief. The sticky hot summer was not made easier from the previous hunt. Sam brushed his hair back with sweat dripping from his forehead. He looked unnatural handsome under the florescent lights shining over the motel, along with his glistening muscles you were finding it almost irresistible to keep your eyes away. The heat of the moment brought a light bulb of an idea to your boiling brain. “Have you ever skinny dipped before?” The question hung in air as Sam turned towards you, giving off the expression of surprise yet aroused by the notation. “Nope”, he responded with a smirk. Waiting a minute as to not press the matter any further without some positive variation. Finally the pressure is to much to handle and you blurt out, “Well it’s hot as hell so I’m diving in”. The rush of the sudden action causes your heart to tremble in excitement. “(y/n), what are you doing?” Sam nervously laughs. Your shirt tumbles to the ground following just behind your shorts. Quickly splashing in the cool water, you turn to face the youngest Winchester. “Damn it’s cold!” you shout. Sam’s expression turns into a deep seeded lustful gaze as your peel off your bra and underwear, tossing them to the side. “Oh you have no idea what you’ve just done”, Sam says. “Come show me”, you insist. Stripping off his clothes in record time, Sam jumps into the pending pool. His wet body reminds you of the Greek God Poseidon, drenched in perfection. “His hardware isn’t bad either” you thought to yourself. As you both bobbed in the depths of the pool the situation at hand made itself perfectly clear. Both Sam and you were naked and the way he was staring at you was installing quakes inside your burning body. His face was nearly touching yours as he swam closer. Sam’s thumb grazes your lower lip, trailing down to just above your breast. Then just as swiftly as the skinny dipping began, Sam passionately kissed you underneath the florescent motel lights accompanied by the heat of summer.
#9: “You look hot”
It was an off day at the hunter’s bunker. Dean ever so gentlemen like was headed to a bar for what he referrers as “local fun”. Sam was out running his usual miles and you were draped over the couch, vegging on some snacks. “Is that all you’re going to do today?” Dean’s husky voice interrupted the silence. “Duh, we’ve been hunting all this month. I need this day to accomplish nothing”, you reply. Dean shrugs before shutting the front door, leaving you at peace with the notation of nothingness.
Just as you were drifting into unconsciousness the front door reopened in a huff. Shooting up from your laying position, you notice Sam hunched over catching his breath. “Sam. are you okay”, you ask. He nods his head and heavily breathes “yeah…I may have… over did it… on the running”, he painfully laughs. His rosy cheeks flushed with sweat and heat, soft hair around his face stuck to his forehead. “You look hot”, you blurt out. He quickly looks up at your shocked expression. You didn’t mean to be so blunt but the way he presented himself was glorious. “I mean… It’s hot outside so you must also be hot… you know like your body. I mean the temperature of your hot body. Damn it!” You nervously try to justify the previous statement. Sam smirks at your frantic demeanor, “I get it don’t worry”. He slips off his shoes as he readjusts. Face palming your forehead at your early banter, wanting so desperately for this moment to end. “I’m gonna take a shower”, Sam states. “K”, you force yourself to reply. “I’ll be here”, you add. Cringing at the thought of what just unraveled. “You know, you look pretty hot yourself”, Sam mentions as he passes by. The look of surprise returns as you dwell on the words. “You could always jump in the shower with me?” he suggests.
Cas frowns as he wraps his hand around the mug someone had placed on the table in front of him just moments ago, expecting his cold fingers to be warmed through the ceramic, but instead he finds only a cool hardness. The mug is only half full of what must be instant coffee - clumps and granules float on the surface and cling to the sides. No inviting aroma wafts into his nose, and no steam lingers at the top. His shoulders slump, disappointed.
“Not quite all it’s cracked to be, huh?”
Cas lifts his eyes from the mug to meet the gaze of the man sitting across from him. Moments earlier, he introduced himself as Dean Winchester, and in turn Cas gave him his name, but further conversation was interrupted by the production crew as they placed the final details on the set, including the shit that passes as coffee now sitting in Cas’s cold hands.
Shaking his head, Cas shoves the mug away from himself, then remembers the instructions he was given, and slides it back into his chest with a sigh.
“This is sad,” Cas says. He glances across the set to where the stars of the movie sit in the middle of the appropriated cafe. The lights and cameras are still being positioned, so the stars turn down to their phones.
“This your first time?”
“Being an extra?” Cas asks for clarification. Dean nods. “Yes. I need some additional money for my tuition, and this prospect seemed a lot more honorable than stooping to pornography.”
Dean snorts into his hand, earning him a glare from a couple assistants and one of the camera guys. Dean rolls his eyes. “Dunno, man. They probably have decent coffee at Casa Erotica.”
“True.” Cas nods in his favor. “What about you? How long have you been an extra?”
Dean shrugs. “A while I guess. Started off same as you: needed to put my little brother through college somehow. I’ve got a gig at my uncle’s scrap yard, but it’s not enough, you know?”
“As if this pay is half as glamorous.” They’re getting crumbs compared to their more qualified, more renowned costars; with the money the leading duo are being paid, it almost makes Cas want to drop out of his veterinary program to become a movie star.
Dean snorts again, then shrugs again. His movements are theatrical without being ostentatious, sinuous without being hard to follow; it’s that, combined with his unnaturally handsome features, that makes Cas wonder why this man isn’t starring in his own movie franchise. He’s absolutely mesmerizing to watch.
Before either Cas or Dean has to find something to say, the bell rings, signaling that they’re about to start filming. Cas licks his lips and schools his features into a inconspicuous expression with a flex of his jaw. Across from him, Dean is preparing a similar manner, muting himself so the two conventionally attractive leads are not upstaged by the faces behind them. The vibrance in Dean’s green eyes appears to dim; Cas frowns.