Last night, under city lights
I was wandering
Across the street, he stared at me
7 feet, a trench coat angel
Through a smokey haze, he looked my way
And said, could I have minute please?
I have something you need
...
It had been a long couple of days, a hunt that had taken too long and taken too much out of them. And Dean let himself fall behind, tossing Sam the keys and watching through gathering fog as the streetlights flickered.
Across the street, a familiar figure stepped into the light, trenchcoat fluttering around his knees.
Dean couldn't help a soft smile, despite the exhaustion pulling at his features, as he shifted his direction to meet him.
When Cas' hand slid into his, it was just as rough as Dean remembered, callouses sliding over callouses, and Cas' voice was warm when it washed over him.
"Can we talk, Dean?"
