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A Dean/Castiel fic.

Chapter Three.

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Disclaimer: See Ch. 1.

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A/N: Okay, the idea for this chapter hit me at 6:57, Mountain Standard time ... lol. We'll see how long it takes me to get it all down and post it!

This next installment is based on the idea of Cas's first time playing footsies. This one carries on from the last two chapters, but I'm not sure if all of the chapters I do (if I do more) will be continuous.

Alright, let's get on with it, shall we?

I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it!

As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!

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Dean and Castiel had been a "couple" for about a week. They kept it secret from Sam and Bobby, not knowing how either of them would react, or if it would affect how they operated as a "unit".

They were enjoying the beginning part of the relationship, plus the added excitement of keeping it from everyone.

One afternoon they were in yet another diner, pouring over notes while Sam typed away on his laptop. They had just finished a two-day recon on the devil's activities, and were going over the information they had gathered, and how they could use it to their advantage.

Castiel was sitting next to Sam at the table, Dean on the other side. They didn't always sit that way, but Dean decided to use this to his advantage. Under the guise of picking up a dropped fry, he scouted under the table, mapping out the placement of Castiel's and Sam's feet. He adjusted his position in the seat, feeling like a twelve-year old as he casually stretched his leg out and made contact with Castiel's foot.

The ex-angel's head popped up, glancing at Dean with a confused/interested expression on his face.

Dean grinned in response, returning his face to normal when Sam's head moved. He kept an eye on Sam's movements while he pretended to be reading the pages in front of him, and a few seconds later he began to move his foot against Castiel's again.

This time there was no doubt in Castiel's eyes that Dean had meant to do that, and after a little less-than-inconspicuous wiggling, Dean managed to tug his foot out of his boot, lowering it to the floor. He brought his foot back up, his socked-foot allowing for more movement.

With a quirked eyebrow he motioned for Castiel to do the same, and though he wasn't entirely sure what was going on, he complied, sliding his shoe off easier than Dean had.

Dean wouldn't admit that when their near-naked feet touched under the table in the diner, a minor skip went through his heart. It was more erotic than cute, but he felt both feelings at the same time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd played footsies with someone.

Castiel's movements were awkward at first, and he kept glancing over at Sam, but after Dean cleared his throat and flared his eyes at him, telling him silently to quit being so awkward, Castiel relaxed a little bit, and began moving his foot against Dean's with more purpose.

Dean bit back a smirk as he began to slide his foot higher up until he passed Castiel's ankle, caressing the calf and dragging it back down.

A sigh passed Castiel's lips, and Dean shifted in his seat, pleased that he was stirring such a reaction from him.

Sam glanced up, looking at Castiel, who immediately flipped the page he was looking at, staring down at it intently.

Dean almost chuckled, enjoying the show.

After a moment, when Sam had looked back at his laptop, Castiel returned the gesture, sliding his foot up inside Dean's jeans and toying with the top of his sock, spreading his first and second toes before he began moving his foot up and down against his skin.

Dean's eyes widened in response at the movement, blinking at the ex-angel.

It was Castiel's turn to smirk, happy that he could make Dean as nervous as he made him.

This went on for almost ten minutes, and Dean was practically panting. Castiel was faring no better, and finally Dean couldn't take it anymore.

He removed his foot from where it was wrapped around Castiel's and shoved it back into his boot, gathering his papers. Castiel looked at him in confusion, probably thinking he'd done something wrong, but Dean inclined his head, motioning towards the door and mouthing five minutes, before he said to Sam, "I'm heading back to the room, I think I have some stuff there I can cross-reference with."

Sam shrugged. "Whatever. Don't drink too much."

Dean rolled his eyes, smacking his brother as he walked out of the diner, and motioning to Castiel once more before he walked out of the diner, hoping he would be able to come up with a believable excuse without arousing suspicion.

For Castiel's first time playing footsies, he was pretty damn good at it.

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The end.

Short, I know, but I didn't think it would be too long.

What did you guys think?

Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.

Until next time ...!