65. âHold my hand dammit, we gotta make this look convincing!â
hey jinny, thanks for the prompt! <3
âWait, so â youâre sure itâs the bartender?â Sam whispers to Cas.
Cas nods. âYes,â he answers.
âWhat makes you so sure?â Sam asks.
âThe smell of blood is usually a dead giveaway,â Cas replies deadpan.
Theyâre standing outside the bar in question, bundled up against the cold weather. Itâs almost Christmastime and people are passing by on the small street, paying them no mind. There is barely a foot of distance between them, and Casâs head is tilted up to Samâs so they can hear each other better.
âOld blood, or fresh?â Sam asks with a frown.
âSmelled fresh,â Cas says. A passer-by jostles him accidentally and he steps forward, now close enough to feel the warmth of Samâs breath when he exhales.
This is nice, he thinks absently. He always likes being close to Sam. Sam is warm, and always smells nice. Like kindness, if one could smell kindness. And home.
âSo⊠just to summarize,â Sam says, and Casâs attention goes back to him, to the serious look on his face and the little frown he has whenever heâs talking about case-related things. âBartenderâs the vamp?â
âYes, the bartender is the vamp,â Cas says, a little belatedly. Samâs skin looks really nice in the streetlight.
Sam opens his mouth to say something, but then he stiffens, expression changing.
âSheâs coming this way,â he mutters. âMust be on her way out.â
âDo we go after her?â Cas murmurs, stepping even closer to Sam. Easier to avoid people on the sidewalk this way, he tells himself.
Sam shakes his head. Some of his hair comes loose and falls in his face, and Cas has to resist the urge to tuck it back behind his ear. âToo many people,â he whispers. âCrap, sheâs looking this wayââ
âWhat do we do?â Cas hisses urgently, trying not to look towards where Samâs indicating with a half-raised shoulder.
âWe need to distract her so it doesnât look like we were waiting here for her,â Sam murmurs.
Sam frowns for a moment, thinking, and then says, âPretend youâre my boyfriend.â
Castiel freezes, all thought processes grinding to a halt. âWhat?â
âPretend youâre my boyfriend,â Sam repeats, more urgently now. âQuick, Cas, sheâs coming closerââ
âHow do I do thatââ Cas is not ashamed to admit that heâs panicking a little.
âHold my hand, dammit, we gotta make this look convincing!â Sam says, and then, without waiting for Cas to respond, grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers. Cas is already standing so close that he doesnât need to do much else; to anyone just glancing in their direction, they already look intimate, faces inches apart and fingers laced together.
If Cas had a human heart, it would be going a mile a minute. Samâs hands are warm, callused from years of hunting but gentle anyway, and Cas can feel his pulse through his skin. Samâs face is so close. All he really has to do is tilt his own just a little bit more, and close the distanceâ
The scent of fresh blood and deadness wafts pass him, and Sam tenses some more, and Cas understands that the vampire is passing by. Sam tracks her furtively with his eyes, and Cas knows that he should be doing it too, but⊠Sam has beautiful eyes, and his nose and cheeks are pink from the cold, and suddenly Castiel understands what it means to yearn.
The vampire passes by them; so does the moment. Sam lets go of Casâs hand, and mutters, âOkay, weâre good. Letâs go see where sheâs headed.â
Always next time, Castiel tells himself as he shakes himself out of his thoughts and turns to follow Sam, already resolutely stalking the vampire. Maybe after the hunt. Maybe in the car on the way back. Maybe once theyâre back at the bunker. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Coward, he tells himself.
dailybridgerton
2087
jacobvanloon
gummygunk
stormborns
turnnoffyourmind
romaincrisis
kianamaiart
izzy806
