Just A Bit Closer (Book Two)

In Which There Is Some Fluff

{Cas's POV}

"Cas, can you hand me the wrench?"

I stared at Dean as he bent over the Impala. "Uh..."

"Third from the left."

I picked up what I supposed was the wrench and handed it to him.

"Alright. Can you give me the-"

"Dean," I cut him off, "I don't know what anything is. Where is it?"

I heard him laugh. "First on the right."

I picked up whatever the first on the right was and gave it to Dean.

"What are you going to do about the windshield?" I asked. "Because, last time I checked, you don't have spare windshields just lying around."

Dean looked up from the car. "When was they last time you checked?"

"Never. It was a figure of speech. At least I believe it was."

He laughed and shook his head. "Cas..."

"Yes?"

He just shook his head again.

"But you never know what's laying around the bunker."

I nodded. Dean wiped off his hands with a rag as he walked toward me.

"You okay?"

I tilted my head in confusion. "Yes. Why?"

He stopped in front of me and squatted down so he was level to my eyes, as I was on a bench. He tried to hold my hand, but I pulled them out of reach.

"Cas?"

I looked down at his hands. "Your hands. They're covered in grease."

He stared at his hands for a moment, then before I could react, he wiped his hands on my face. I could feel the black goo dripping down my cheek and onto the corner of my mouth. With a smirk, I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his. Dean laughed and attempted to clean his lips with his wrist, only managing to smear the grease further.

"Really?" Dean laughed.

"Yes." I looked over his shoulder at the Impala. "Dean, are you done yet? Can we go to bed?"

"But-"

"Please," I begged.

He closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine," he said. "Just let me take a shower first."

I nodded and smiled before he walked off. I sat there for a minute, and after accepting my complete boredom, I walked to Dean's bedroom. When I opened the door, I could hear the shower running and the soft humming that I recognized as Dean's voice.

I walked over to his bed and layed down, getting a face full of the comforter. I inhaled the scent of his sheets, detergent and the same leathery aroma that follows Dean. I sat up and ran my hands over the fabric.

"I am so bored," I groaned.

So, I stood up and looked at the pictures on Dean's nightstand. He had one of his mom, one of him and Sam, and one of me and the two brothers. I picked up the framed picture of the three of us. I laughed as I remembered that day.

It was one of those rare days when nothing was happening. No apocolypse, no leviathans, no hunts. So, naturally, we started shooting paintballs. Sam had been sorting one of the many rooms down one of the many hallways. Dean and I were cooking, well, Dean was cooking. I was watching. Then, Sam popped his head in the door.

"Hey, guys," he had said. "Guess what I found?"

Dean looked up from the burger he was frying. "What is it?"

Sam stepped into the doorway, one paintball gun strapped to his chest, one in each hand.

"Sweet," Dean grinned. He turned the fire off on the stove and put a lid on the patties. Sam tossed him a gun, then me.

And so, we spent the morning, as well as the afternoon, shooting each other with colorful projectiles.

When we came inside, covered in paint, Dean insisted we took a picture. He grabbed a camera, set it on the timer, and stood in between me and Sam. He wrapped his arms around our shoulders and smiled.

I swear, I was almost blinded by that stupid flash.

I felt two arms snake around my waist and I turned to see Dean's face hovering above my shoulder. I hadn't even heard the water shut off.

I set the picture down and turned in his arms, wrapping mine around him. I noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt. I mean, it was kind of hard not to.

He leaned to press his lips to mine and I smiled under his mouth.

"What?" Dean asked, grinning as well.

"I don't know. Just everything. Everything is perfect."

He smiled even brighter. "I agree."

I layed my head on his chest and we stood there for a moment.

I yawned and Dean pulled back a little. "Tired?" I nodded and he pulled on a shirt before joining me under the covers. I nestled my head into the crook of his neck and smiled. I placed a light kiss on his bare skin peeking under his faded band T-shirt and stretched my arm over his waist.

He started to run his fingers through my hair. "It's 11:11," he sighed, "make a wish."

I pressed even closer to Dean. "I don't have to," I yawned. "Not anymore."