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They could be doing something normal, like research or interviewing witnesses of supernatural events, and Dean would slyly lift a wing or his tail and slide it beneath a layer of feathers. Castiel would tense and shuffle his wings, batting at Dean in hopes of making him stop. He never did. He could keep reaching over and sifting through the feathers, searching out every sensitive spot in attempt to break Castiel’s composure. It was a game of trying to break Castiel down into a flushed, gasping and hopefully groaning mess at all the wrong times. All the while Dean would stand there like everything was perfectly normal, maybe a little quirk of his lips or looking at him in mock curiosity and concern. Castiel hated him for it. But if Dean could play this game, then so could Castiel.
“I believe the phrase is ‘revenge is a dish best served cold’.”
- Part 4 of Prompts