ALL YOU HAD TO SAY
(EXCERPT)
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Dean cleared his throat, took in more lungfuls of awesome autumn woodsmoke-air, and told himself to just. Get the hell on with this.
Unecessarily clearing his throat some more for good measure, Dean then said, "Hey, Cas? You around, buddy? Kinda need you to lend me your ears, if you're free…"
Nothing became angel in a heartbeat, in a rush of unseeable feathers and lightning-charged ozone—that same charred smell that already lingered in the air, only much, much stronger.
"Hello, Dean."
Dean sucked a breath through his teeth. "Hey, man. Uh, thanks for the flyby," he smirked on autopilot, fingers trembling traitorously in their betrayal.
"I've told you a number of times, Dean, I'll always come when you call." Such a fucking Holy Tax Accountant. "Although, I am somewhat confused by your request; I'm honestly quite unsure of how I would go about lending you this vessel's body parts."
Cas was. Outrageously fucking earnest as ever.
"Whaddya—oh, right, the ear thing, yeah. Uh, nah, man, that's just a turn of phrase." Dean cleared his throat again, even though there was nothing left to clear. "Listen, Cas. I, uh. I got somethin' to say."
"Well, I'd be a little put out if you didn't."
Snarky bastard.
"Yeah, well, you might be a little put out regardless," Dean muttered it under his breath, momentarily forgetting Cas could still hear him with his magic angel-ears.
"How so, Dean?" Cas was now doing the head tilt thing and it was just. That was too fucking much. Dean felt like his melon was going pop and his chest was going to burst open like that scene in Alien if he didn't get this out.
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(written for @verobatto)