make the angels fall [ dean x cas ]

iii

Turns out, Castiel did end up riding the motorcycle.

Not willingly, though.

"Dean Middle Name Winchester, let go of my arm right now!" Cas screamed as Dean dragged him to his motorcycle.

Dean just smirked as he lifted Cas up like a child, which only made the smaller man angrier.

"You're an angry elf," Dean joked as he plopped Castiel on the back seat of his motorcycle. Cas crossed his arms over his chest and sighed.

"Put it on, Cupcake," said Dean as he handed a frustrated Cas his only helmet. Cas studied it, and was confused by the little crown looking sticker on it with the letters "FOB" on the inside. He didn't mention it.

Cas slid the hemet on his head and buckled it; it was a little too big, but hey, at least it was something. He was even more surprised than he already had been when he saw Dean get on the motorcycle, kick the kickstand up and start it without a helmet. The loud roaring noise hurt Cas' ears a little.

"Hang on tight!" Dean shouted, and Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's waist.

"Why don't you get a helmet?" Cas asked, half shouting. Dean ran a hand through his green streaked hair and shrugged.

"If something happens, your life is more important than mine," was the answer. Before Cas could question what that meant, Dean started to drive out of the parking lot, and Cas' talking couldn't be heard.

Castiel actually enjoyed the ride. He loved the way that he could see Dean's fluffy little hairs blow in the wind, and how at certain times Dean's muscles would tense up, like when a car cut them off. Dean thought Cas couldn't feel it, but Cas did. That was his favorite part; feeling how much Dean cared when they were put in a potential state of danger.

Eventually the ride ended, and Cas expected for Dean to get off the motorcycle before anything, but the first thing Dean did was turn around to Castiel.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Cas sweetly smiled and took off the helmet, forgetting what Jo had earlier said.

"I'm fine," he said has he handed the helmet to Dean and straightened his glasses.

"Alright," Dean said to himself as he stepped off of the motorcycle. "You need help here?" He glanced at Cas, who was eyeing the ground nervously.

"Yeah..." Cas trailed off, and suddenly, Dean hooked his hands under Cas' shoulders and not-so effortlessly lifted Cas up, but they didn't exactly make it to the ground smoothly.

Dean's head made a sickening crack when it hit the sidewalk, and Cas' chest hit Dean's with an oof. So now Castiel was laying on top of the Winchester, and he took the few seconds to observe Dean's face; his eyebrow piercing, cocky smirk, hazel-green eyes, and perfect lips. Cas couldn't help but wonder what Dean's lips would feel like when-

"Cas!" Dean snapped Castiel out of his explicit thoughts. When he realized he was still lying on top of Dean, Cas immediately blushed and scrambled off of him.

"S-Sorry," he mumbled, standing up and wiping dust off of his pants. Dean sat up with a grunt and smirked, and Cas' eyes somehow made their way down to the skin of bowlegs peeking out of Dean's ripped jeans.

"Now," Dean sighed, "Wanna go over to the swings so we can talk?" Cas nodded and bit his bottom lip, which Dean groaned at.

Once Dean stood up, with the help of Castiel, they walked over to the swing set, receiving rude glares from mothers.

"Oh, fuck off," Dean muttered. This got him a sharp glare from Castiel.

The swings were squeaky. Squeaky enough to make a baby cry and a mother glare.