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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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914
Chapters:
1/1
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11
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987

The Difference A Little Leather Makes

Summary:

Summary:  Castiel gets caught red-handed trying on Dean’s leather jacket.

Work Text:

The Difference A Little Leather Makes
by Sam-Tony

 

Whipping around as the door to the motel room opened, Castiel looked about as guilty as a kid caught red-handed with his fingers in the cookie jar.
 
Flashing the angel a crooked smile, Dean was about to make some sort of crack about angels and cheesy motel porn when he saw what the angel had been up to - and what he was wearing.
 
*Oh holy crap.*
 
“I - just…”  The low voice faltered, the angel caught in mid shrug of the leather jacket that had just settled over his shoulders as Dean stepped numbly into the room, habit shutting the door behind him.  “I don’t see the attraction of this coat.”
 
Castiel was wearing his coat.  Not the f’ugly trench that dwarfed the angel, drowning the smaller body in material and buckles.  *Dean’s* leather jacket.
 
Clearing his throat, Dean set the beer and take out from the diner down the street on the table, never taking his eyes off Cas.  “Oh, I do.”
 
“You do?”  Castiel repeated, voice lightening in relief that one more explanation on human behavior might be forthcoming.
 
Dean swallowed and told little Dean to behave.  That Cas really had no clue what he looked like, caught trying on his jacket.  Leather turning the earnest blue eyes above the scruff into something more.
 
Advancing on the angel standing in front of the vaguely man-sized mirror stuck to the back of the tiny closet door, Dean turned him around until Castiel was facing their cracked and wavering reflections in the glass.  “Definitely.”
 
The angel frowned, clearly unable to see a difference between the oatmeal trench he usually wore and the dark chocolate leather of Dean’s jacket now draped over his shoulders.  “It’s just…when you require covering, this is the one you choose.  I don’t understand; what makes this coat so much more functional than any other?”
 
“More form than function,”  Dean told him, one hand pressing down, feeling the slender curve of shoulder and bone under the well worn leather as he smoothed the fit.
 
“It serves you better on the Hunt,”  Cas suddenly understood, pleased he had figured out the answer somewhat on his own.
 
Something told him Cas didn’t meant the blond waitress from the last town over and Dean fought the laugh down until it was only a twinkle in the eyes that met Castiel’s in the glass; a twitch of his lips as he admitted,  “Somethin’ like that.”
 
Before the returning frown could do more than threaten, Dean shook his head.  “But we have to…”  he deliberately let the words trail off as he turned Castiel around.
 
Sliding the leather back off the shoulders and down the  arms, Dean tossed his jacket over the chair, returning to do the same with the dark, bland suit coat that had come with the trench and tie.  And speaking of that tie…
 
With Cas gone silent and just observing, Dean reached one hand up, his fingers curling around the knot of the black tie Jimmy had been wearing when the angel had hijacked his body.  Their eyes met, Cas inscrutable and Dean…hell who knew what the angel saw in his.  Dean wasn’t sure he knew himself.
 
After a heavy moment with the angel’s life theoretically in his hands, Dean loosened the knot, tugging on the thick material until the tie fell open at his direction.  A single long pull had the tie slipping from around Cas’ neck to fall, dangling from nerveless fingers.
 
What the Hell was he doing?
 
Dean tossed it to the bed.
 
Castiel shrugged the jacket back on, the leather hanging a bit without the added bulk of the dark suit coat underneath.
 
“This is better?”  Castiel asked, his voice the normal smooth gravel, though there was something in the blue eyes that Dean had never seen.  Something that made him swallow and swallow again as those laser eyes immediately homed in on his throat.  Something almost…predatory.
 
“Not - not yet.”
 
Those eyes snapped back to his and suddenly Dean had all of Castiel’s attention as the angel shifted forward, close enough that Dean could smell the leather of his own jacket.  A brush of fabric, polyester and denim, the angel peering up at him. “Then I am in your hands.”
 
“Cas - “
 
“Please.  What else should we do?”
 
Unbuttoning the top couple of buttons was only natural; spreading the collar of the white shirt open a little more to reveal the tease of a white tshirt underneath.  Thumb brushing the cotton against the sharp collarbone, Dean found he didn’t have the strength to breathe much less stop this.  “Cas - “
 
“Let me see.”
 
Turning him, Dean’s eyes returned to the mirror to find his hands resting possessively over the angel’s shoulders, their cracked and broken reflections staring back at him, accusing from out of the glass.  The casual look looked good on Cas; the dark brown leather framing the bland accountant shirt, making the white look more crisp, the light scruff the angel always seemed to sport, more rakish than Dean knew Cas to be.  Even the chapped lips didn’t seem so bad.
 
Still there was one more thing…
 
“Is this right, Dean?”
 
His hands sliding over the rich scent of leather, over skin, Dean spread his fingers and let them run up through the short hair at the back of Cas’s skull; mussing and tangling the short strands, mussing him up.
 
“Yeah.”  Catching the blue, blue eyes in the mirror, he managed to croak through a voice that sounded rusty and unused to his own ears,  “Yeah, Cas.  Just about perfect.”
 

End