Title: Hand Prints
Authors: NotMeredith & NotRaven
Chapter: 1
Genre: Crack.
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Rating: PG
Spoilers: There really aren't any but assume up to 5x22 just in case.
Warnings: Profanity mostly. Immaturity to boot. I mean, we're talking about hand prints in inappropriate places here people.
Word Count: 490
Summary: Sam accidentally discovers Dean's other (permanent) angel hickeys.
Disclaimer: We don't own them. We never will own them. In fact, we're slightly ashamed of even borrowing them for this sort of abuse. Apologies all around.

Dean stepped out of the motel shower and stood in front of the mirror to begin his daily primping. The same process that sometimes took up to three hours if Sam didn't make whiny noises against the door for twenty minutes straight. He wiped condensation off the glass and checked out his chiseled jaw, his ripped abs, and his insanely awesome eyebrows –arching one for good measure because they were just that awesome.

In fact, he was so completely absorbed with his own awesome that he didn't notice Sam had entered the bathroom until he heard the cry of, "OH GOD! PUT A TOWEL ON!"

Dean offered a glance over his shoulder, "Dude. Whatever. Why are you looking at my ass?"

"Dude."

"Dude what?"

"Dean... you have…" He paused and made vague gestures to Dean's backside. "I didn't know you guys were that close..."

"What?" The older brother craned his neck around to try and see what Sammy was talking about. Did he get drunk and get a tattoo again? Because, really, one 'I heart Daddy' across his inner thigh was enough for one lifetime. Or you know, several lifetimes, because he lost count after the Gabriel Groundhog Day encounter.

"The hand prints."

Dean looked at his shoulder, "You mean this one?"

"No..." Sam fidgeted, moving his gaze to the ceiling so he could mentally try and burn the image out of his mind. "The other hand prints."

"Prints?"

Someone took that moment to clear their throat and both brothers noted Cas had finally joined the party. He stood in the doorway shuffling his feet, trying not to meet anyone's eyes.

"Cas?" Sam started.

"Cas, what the hell did you DO?" Dean interrupted.

"You SLIPPED!" The angel burst out, "When I was pulling you from perdition, you slipped and I had to grab SOMETHING."

"Well I know it's a nice ass but damnit, Cas, you could have taken me to dinner first!"

"I don't understand how someone slipping from your grip would cause you to grab their ass. That doesn't even make sense." Sam protested, stuck in that funny place between horror and pure amusement.

"You weren't there, you don't understand..." the angel tried again.

"No no, we all understand what happens when an angel loves a-" and before the rest of his snide comment could escape, Castiel vanished with an indignant flutter of wings.

"Well, that was awkward." Sam muttered as he turned and left for the furthest corner of their shared motel room. Maybe if he drowned himself in internet research he could wash away the last ten minutes of his life. Forever, with any luck.

"That totally explains why that girl asked me who would mind if she branded me too."

"NOT LISTENING!" Cue the loud muffled music pouring from Sam's headphones.

Dean decided he was going to have to talk to Cas about this later, and maybe leave a few ass marks of his own.

Heh.

La Fin