Chapter 1: Morning Routine
*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP* Here I am! Rock you like a hurricane!
Sam groaned, his large hand whipping out and slapping the blaring alarm clock. He stretched, noting the cool pillow next to him with a sigh. His eyes traveled to the other double bed in the motel room and a smirk crossed his lips.
Dean was stretched out on top of the sheets, still snoring lightly. Cas was playing lightly in his hair, and looked up at Sam after dropping a kiss on the elder hunter’s bare shoulder. “Good morning, Sam.” He kept his deep voice quiet, reminding the younger Winchester of a purring lion.
“Heh, mornin’, Cas. Wake him up; we’ve got to get out to Granger’s Point before noon.” A final stretch and he pulled his lanky frame up, adjusting his jeans and grabbing his t-shirt. It took all of three steps to reach the bathroom, and he blinked at the sound of running water. “Ah, c’mon, Gabe… you gotta give someone else a chance, man.” The playful angel ALWAYS got up before everyone else, stealing the bathroom sometimes for over an hour. He wasn’t so big on the busty girls anymore… but he did still have some hedonistic tendencies; namely an overactive sweet tooth and a need for scalding hot, hour long showers.
“Yeah, yeah…” The grinning angel stuck his head out of the door, hair dripping on the motel room carpet. “You could always join me, ya know… Sleepy and Doc won’t be up for a bit.”
Sam glanced back at pair and shook his head. Dean had rolled over, burying his face in Cas’ neck. Cas’ arms were wrapped around him and Sam could hear his deep voice rumbling into his brother’s ear. It was invariably a plea for Dean to wake up, but the elder Winchester was warm and comfortable. Gabe was right… it’d be a while before the two of them got out of bed. He grinned and slipped into the bathroom, hands already on the button of his jeans.
Dean snorted as the bathroom door closed, pulling Cas against him and lifting his head for a kiss. “Thought he’d never go away.”
Cas chuckled, kissing him back and stretching a crick out of his back. “Sam said we had to get moving.”
“Yeah, whatever. We got time.” Dean trailed kisses up Cas’ chest and neck, a rumble of contentment vibrating along the fallen angel’s skin.
Cas’ head fell back against the pillow, enjoying the feel of Dean’s lips. It was often like this in the morning… no rush, no heat, just the affection that the elder brother rarely showed in front of Sam. He threaded his fingers through short, soft hair and kissed the top of Dean’s head. “We should get breakfast, Dean. This motel’s water pressure is not very good.”
Dean blinked, confusion evident in his bright green eyes for only a moment. His head swung to the bathroom door where an audible moan and a soft curse could be heard. Oh no… Dammit… “Way to c-block me, Sammy.”
Cas chuckled softly at his muttered expletive, sliding off the bed and stretching fully. Dean watched him with a small smile. He’d once told the angel that he could almost see his wings stretching when he did that and sometimes Cas intentionally let his wings knock things from shelves. It was a delight to watch Dean’s face light up, like a child who had proof of Santa Claus.
Dean tilted his head, cracking his neck. “All right, all right. I’ll get the gear stowed, you go get breakfast, and hopefully those two will be done by the time we both get back.” He shot a glare at the door and shook his head. He hit the radio on the side of the bed, cranking the volume up a bit as Cas nodded and walked out. He couldn’t help himself, dancing around the room as he grabbed the duffle bags and their various weaponry and charms, stuffing them all in various places to get them to the Impala.
Three-quarters of an hour later found them all ranged around the small motel table, wrappers crinkling as Sam tapped away at his laptop. “All right… we hit Granger’s Point and take out that old plow, then we have an almost definite haunting about an hour north, and what looks like either werewolves or ghouls two states over. The haunting is probably a simple salt and burn.” He looked over at Dean.
Dean snorted. “Yeah, right.”
Chapter 2: Morning Butt
Not everything Team Free Will deals with is life-threatening...
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Dean woke up to the smell of demons. He sat straight up in bed, hands automatically reaching for his gun before his half-asleep brain registered the sounds of sleepy giggles from the bed next to him. In rapid succession, he noticed a couple of facts.
Fact 1: Cas was not in bed with him, though his trenchcoat was still draped across the motel room chair; he was most likely in the bathroom.
Fact 2: Sam had not yet woken up, though the giggles were definitely coming from him.
Fact 3: Gabriel was sitting up and staring at the youngest Winchester in his bed with a mix of horror and amusement, his hand lifting to cover his nose and mouth.
“Morning butt.” Dean slipped the gun back under his pillow as he used his free hand to fan the stench away from him.
“Dean-o, I’ve been around for a LONG time… I’ve never heard of morning butt.” Gabriel poked at Sam’s ribs, earning a grunt and a fresh set of giggles as Sam rolled onto his side.
“It’s a Sammy thing, I think… We should have skipped the tacos last night.” He stood up, groaning softly and opening the windows. He was sadly far too used to this… his little brother was a gassy little bastard.
“I am almost certain that level of… foul odor is only associated with the dead and dying, Dean.” Cas’ nose wrinkled as he walked out of the bathroom. His hair was damp; he’d somehow managed to beat Gabe to the shower. “Perhaps someone should check on him.”
“Nah, s’morning butt.” Dean walked over and poked Sam sharply in the ribs, making him sit up with a gasp and a string of curse words. “Ya need to stop teaching him Enochian, I’m pretty sure that’s not the way your old man meant for it to be used.”
“Dean. What in the name of Dad is ‘morning butt’?” Gabe had gotten up, moving away from Sam as if the stink might be contagious.
“Simply put, ‘morning butt’ is that point of being not quite awake, but still needing to fart. Apparently, Sam finds it hysterical every time it happens, because it’s always accompanied by him giggling like a 10 year old. It also smells worse than anything he does when he’s wide awake… I think he stores it up all night so he can try and kill people in the morning.”
Sam was torn between blushing and trying not to laugh. He almost had himself under control. Then another waft of sulphuric methane hit Castiel and the angel actually gagged. Sam fell back onto the bed, laughing hysterically. Dean joined in the laughter, holding his stomach when it started to ache. Gabriel took a position next to the window, laughing as well as they all watched the normally stoic Angel of the Lord try to deal with watering eyes.
“Every… once in a while…” Cas gagged again, moving to the door and opening it wide. “I think… Lucifer might be right… humans are disgusting…”
His proclamation was met with renewed laughter that left smiles on everyone’s faces for the rest of the day.
I'm really not sorry I wrote this... sometimes the crack just takes you that way. :P