Castiel frowned as he leaned over the grimoire, rereading the spell and trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. Yes…Yes…Yes, he’d done all of that, so why hadn’t it worked?
He felt a sudden pull on his robe and looked down. Dean had crept up behind him in fox form and seized a mouthful of fabric; once he saw that he had Castiel’s attention, he let out a playful growl and tugged harder, jerking his head in the direction of the bed.
Castiel chuckled. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said, closing the grimoire. “I’ll resume tomorrow.”
Apparently pleased, Dean released Castiel’s robe and turned, leaping lightly onto the bed and transforming into a handsome green-eyed man dressed in furs. “‘Bout time,” he complained, running his hand over the mattress in obvious invitation. “Was startin’ to get lonely.”