Fic: Three Kisses

[chase_acow]

Here's what I did for annella's kissing meme! There's lots of tasty tidbits over there - mainly J2 and Dean/Sam.

Jensen/Jared - sneak attack kisses PG-13


1.

Jensen was elbow deep in warm sudsy water, so that was of course when an itch started just above his right eyebrow. He slipped the plate he was washing into the clean water in the other basin of the sink and tried to scratch his forehead with his bicep. It didn't really work out that well. He decided to ignore it and reached for another plate.

Approximately ten seconds later, his eye was twitching. He turned his head and yelled, "Jared!"

"You bellowed?" Jared said as soon as he sidled into the kitchen from the living room.

"Why is it that when the dishwasher breaks, I'm the one who ends up cleaning?" Jensen asked without looking over his shoulder. He wrinkled his forehead and scrunched his face trying to relieve the itch. Yeah, that didn't work either.

Jared padded across the kitchen, his bare feet slapped softly on the linoleum. He inched closer to Jensen's left side and watched as Jensen moved the clean dishes to the drying rack. "Maybe," Jared said, his shoulder bumping Jensen's arm, "it's because I'm content to live in my own filth and you have to disinfect the bathroom twice a week?"

"Least you can do is make yourself useful, then," Jensen said, flicking water off his hands at Jared's face. "Scratch my face, dude."

Immediately, Jared reached up and flicked his thumb over Jensen's left cheekbone.

"Other side and above my eyebrow."

Shifting closer, Jared turned and reached around Jensen's shoulders, his breath hot against Jensen's neck. His fingers ghosted over Jensen's eyebrow making him twitch into Jared's hand.

"Harder."

"I know you like it hard, Jen, you don't have to tell me," Jared chuckled, and moved his hand until only the tips of his fingers tickled over Jensen's skin.

Jensen shivered. On one hand, he didn't want to move away from Jared's hips rubbing against flank, but on the other hand, if he didn't get scratched in about five seconds, he was going to die from the torture. He sighed, "I hate you."

"You know you love me," Jared drawled, using his most annoying sing-song voice. He leaned over and blew over Jensen's ear, "Say it, or I'll take my magic scratching finger to go see Sadie."

"Fucker," Jensen twisted his head, trying to angle his head to get Jared's hand on the itch. Jared kept just out of satisfaction until Jensen finally growled. "Fine, I love you. Now scratch my damn head."

Laughing, Jared finally scratched his blunt fingernails over Jensen's brow. Jensen closed his eyes and sighed, biting his bottom lip in pleasure.

"Yeah, that's my guy," Jared said, his voice low and rough, right against Jensen's skin. "Such a romantic."

Jared leaned in and pressed his lips against Jensen's cheek. It wasn't even a real kiss. Not as scorching as their first fuck. Not the long, drawn out exchanges of Sunday morning sleep-ins. Not even the fast paced mania of sneaking kisses between scenes. Jensen barely felt Jared's stubble rasp against his own before Jared danced away.

"Finish those dishes, wifey!" Jared yelled, ducking back out into the living room. "Maybe I'll let you scratch something for me."

"Jackass," Jensen muttered, grabbing the steel wool so he could scrub at something burnt on their smallest frying pan. He glanced up out the window and dropped both the pan and the wool in the sink. The next he knew, there was soapy water dripping down his cheek and he was touching the place where Jared had kissed him.

Rolling his eyes, Jensen wiped the water off with his sleeve and hurried through the rest of the dishes.

J2 - kisses after a proposal PG-13



"This wouldn't have happened if you'd just done the laundry!" Jared yelled, trying to defend himself as he met Jensen's outraged volume.

"It's not like I'm married to you, Jared," Jensen fumed, wrapping his ruined shirt around his fist. He didn't know how Jared had managed to both turn it from gray to pink and splatter it with ink, but his favorite sweater was mangled beyond repair. It shouldn't even have been in the hamper with Jared's sweaty mess of clothes. "I don't have an obligation to do your laundry!"

"Well, why don't you just marry me then!"

Narrowing his eyes in the following silence, Jensen tightened his hands around his ruined sweater. He realized that he was clenching his teeth and forcibly relaxed his jaw. "What did you just say to me?" he asked, breathing through his nose.

"Um, nothing?" Jared grimaced, backing up as held his basket full of ink-blotted laundry in front of him. He hit the wall, paused for a moment, then dropped that basket and ran for it.

Jensen pounced and managed to grab Jared around his thigh. It took a second of being dragged behind Jared before he managed to grab Jared's other leg and take him down. He wiggled his way up Jared's body, growling and making sure that he poked his fingers into all of Jared's most ticklish places.

"You idiot, you are not proposing to me in the middle of a fight," he said, trying to hold back his amusement and mostly failing. He got his knees underneath him, on either side of Jared's back. "This is not the story that we're telling the grandkids."

Through an intense bout of squirming, Jared managed to turn between Jensen's legs and put his back to the floor. He grinned like a wild thing and managed to catch Jensen's wrists, his hands big enough to go all the way around. "So, is that a yes?" he asked, the skin at the corner of his eyes wrinkling.

Pretending to think about it, Jensen schooled his expression, "I'm not doing your damned laundry."

"Don't have to," Jared answered, tugging Jensen's hands above his own head so Jensen had to lean down closer to Jared's face. "Just hafta kiss me."

"Is that all?" Jensen teased, closing his eyes as he dipped down to press his lips against Jared's. Jared opened up immediately, his tongue meeting Jensen halfway. Tugging his hands loose, Jensen framed Jared's face and traced his thumb over Jared's eyebrow. He sighed when Jared clutched at his back, moaning and pulled them closer together. When he pulled back, Jensen knew he was matching Jared dopey smile for dopey smile.

Jared rolled them over, cushioning Jensen's head and neck, until he was lying between Jensen's legs. "One more thing," he said seriously, brushing his finger over Jensen's ear.

"What's that?" Jensen asked, rubbing his foot over Jared's calves.

"Change your name to Padalecki."

Jensen blinked, "Oh, hell no, you -!"

Jared laughed and kissed him again, muffling anything else Jensen was going to say.


Dean/Castiel - coffee flavored kisses PG-13



Dean didn't see him at first. He put his order in and flirted with the only waitress on duty that late at night because he was Dean Winchester again and that was what Dean Winchester did. She promised to go remind the cook about the extra onions for his burger, and Dean settled himself on a stool at the counter.

"Here's a little something while you wait, honey," she said, sliding a plate of pie in front of Dean and leaning so that he could see straight down her buttoned up blouse. "Tell you the truth, I'm happy you came in."

"Oh yeah?" Dean asked, sliding through his smiles until he felt the right one. He took a heaping bite of pie, enjoying the sweet filling and flakey crust. "Why's that, sweetheart?"

She pursed her lips. At one time he would have imagined her wrapping her pouty mouth around his dick, but now he wondered if he should tell her she had lipstick on her teeth. "There's this guy sitting in the back. He's been there all day, only orders coffee. I think he's up to thirty-seven cups."

Dean lifted his eyebrows, "That's a man who loves his caffeine."

"It's creepy," she said, putting her hand on his forearm. "He just sits there in his trench coat and stares at me. He hasn't been to the bathroom once either."

Glancing over his shoulder, Dean saw both the familiar coat and the familiar stooped shoulders of his favorite angel. Not that there was much competition. He turned back to the waitress, and shifted out from under her touch, "Actually, I know the guy. I'll go see what's up with him."

Her face fell, but Dean backed away before she could reach out and grab him. Castiel didn't even look up when Dean slid in across from him, just kept his eyes fixed resolutely on his cup. "Hey, long time no see," Dean said, his tone falling far from the teasing he tried for. "Three weeks even."

Castiel lifted his head but not his eyes and rolled the mug between his hands. "I am absent without leave," he said, his voice low and empty but still ringing in the otherwise silent diner. "My garrison is scattered and directionless. I am alone. I have no faith. And I am out of coffee."

There was something therapeutic about seeing someone even more hopeless than him. Dean glanced down at his own hands, clean for once and soft from Dean Smith's ministrations. The fate of the entire human race rested with him. It was still too big.

"C'mon buddy, I think you've had enough for one day," Dean said, standing and grabbing Castiel's arm. The angel came out of the booth easily, but seemed confused by his legs for a moment and leaned into Dean for balance. "Look at me Cas."

Reluctantly, Castiel lifted both his face and his eyes to Dean. Even his eyes were lost, unfocused.

Dean swallowed hard, "Are they looking for you, Cas? Do they have orders to kill?"

"Only God knows how many Uriel turned or if they are still working against us after Anna killed him," Castiel said dully, uncaring that the waitress chose that moment to walk up and hand Dean his to-go bag. "And He doesn't speak much."

Dean smiled nervously at her shocked face and quickly fished his wallet out of his back pocket. He shoved too much into her hand in exchange for the bag. He tried to chuckle, but the sound got caught in his throat and died. Clearing his throat, he finally managed, "I think he's been spiking the coffee a little hard. I'll just take him with me now. Thanks so much for taking care of him."

Hustling Castiel out the door, Dean kept his hand on the angel hoping to forestall any unexpected flights. He was out of his depths in more ways than one. "Listen, Cas," he said, speaking as soon as they were around the corner out of sight from the front diner windows, "what the hell are you doing sitting in a dive café all day?"

"Mourning."

"Cut the shit out," Dean let Castiel go and walked over to the Impala. He unlocked the backseat, putting his food on the floorboard. "Where's that spunky angel we all know and love?"

"I have no spunk," Castiel said slowly, like the words just dropped from his mouth.

Dean sucked in a breath, blinking hard, and then tears and laughter both exploded out of him. The noise ricocheted off the brick wall in front of him, and he doubled over holding his gut. His cheeks hurt already from smiling so hard. A stitch started in his side.

"I've never heard you laugh before, Dean," Castiel said, tipping his head to the side. He reached out and settled his hand on Dean's shoulder blade, just beside the handprint he'd already left behind. "It's surprising."

He wiped away the tears from the corners of his eyes, but didn't move away from the warmth of Castiel's body. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed, not like that. "Guess it's been awhile since I had any reason to," he said, thinking of the fake laughter Dean Smith used to climb the corporate ladder. "Good surprising or bad surprising?"

"I start to understand why Anna fell," Castiel answered, holding Dean's eyes in an unblinking glare. "The last orders I received that I trust was that I should do your bidding."

Dean quirked his eyebrow, his interest not feigned this time, "Laughing's good, but there are better things about being human."

"You speak of fornication," Castiel said, almost too quiet to be heard.

"Why don't we start out a little smaller?" Dean asked, taking Castiel's tie and pulling until the angel had to step closer. He felt a burning in his gut that he hadn't felt since Jamie back in that fucked up monster movie hunt. The night with Anna hadn't been about anything he'd wanted, but maybe he'd get another shot with an angel. "You wanna kiss me, Cas?"

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows, taking his time before he spoke, "I've thought about it."

The food wasn't getting any warmer sitting in the car, and Sam would be grumpy if he didn't hurry back to the motel soon. He didn't really care though, because he felt like himself again, not some stranger inhabiting skin that didn't fit. Dean grinned, "You gonna do more than think about it?"

Castiel took a final step, their bodies bumping together. He put his hands on either side of Dean's jaw and leaned down. Dean smelled coffee before he felt Castiel's lips against his own.

The fate of the world rested in his hands. Hands held up by a broken angel and a demon blood addicted brother. Castiel's mouth tasted bitter, and Dean hoped for the first time in a long time.