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 Lies we tell ourselves

The hunter took the beer to his lips, breathing deeply the cold air. The dawn rise caressed the surface of the lake, lithe golden fingers forming on the water with the playfulness of a child. Lying back on the chair he stretch his legs. It was a beautiful view, but it was not real.


“I came” Castiel’s rough voice cut the calm of the moment. He was standing a few feet behind him, his posture rather uncharacteristical. He seemed wearied and tired.


“Glad to know, go get a towel and clean yourself” Dean snorted a little, smiling but not looking back, he expected an answer, but nothing came out of Castiel’s lips. “Damn, another good joke wasted on you”.


“Why did you call me?” Castiel moved closer to Dean, his stare fixed in the sky as the sun rose proud. The Angel said this words every day, in this place, with Dean looking at the lake. Every day. He was getting tired of it.


“I didn’t call you Cas, maybe your mojo is fucked up” The hunter took another sip of beer, it was a good beer.


“How many times we are going to keep doing this?” Castiel sighed and closed his eyes “Just tell me why did you call me”.


“I didn’t call you!” Dean shouted as he threw the beer bottle away. The Angel just looked at the sinking bottle. The hunter shook his head trying to calm himself. “Maybe you wanted to see me, and you are trying to fuck with my brain telling me that I’m the one who made the call” It was strange the conviction of his words.


            The angel moved forward, stopping right behind Dean, close enough to feel each others presences.


“Then one of us is lying” Castiel did something he hadn’t done before in that place, but had imagined a million of times in his head. He rose his hand and placed it on Dean’s shoulder. The contact made both tremble. But neither of them moved away.


“I don’t have a reason to lie” The words came out rough from Dean's lips, it was like breathing hot water. His heart pounding by the second, threatening to leave his chest.


“You have every reason to lie to yourself Dean” Castiel’s breath went erratical, as he ran his hand down Dean’s arm, painfully slowly to Dean, burning on his skin. It was too much to bear.


“Cut it out Cas” The hunter grabbed the Angel’s hand. But it was not a rough motion, he just pinned Cas’ hand against his bicep, his own hand against his. Dean tried not to move, feeling that hand beneath his, the warmth of it, the pressure on his arm. He knew that the smallest shift of pressure or the smallest change of position would change everything between the two them. “I don’t want this”


“Lies” Castiel squeezed Dean’s arm making him shudder and moan the angel’s name. Everything had changed


Date: 2009-12-25 12:02 am (UTC)
ext_329580: (contemplative)
From: [identity profile]
Your Dean has a naughty sense of humor ;D

Date: 2009-12-25 09:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
he does ;D. thats what happen when i even glimpse in Encyclopedia Dramatica


vankoss: (Default)

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