Dean Winchester (renegadedean) wrote in childofeden_rp, @ 2013-10-20 15:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: castiel (dropped), character: dean winchester, location: the angel sanctuary (dropped), thread: complete, |week: 02, ~date: 07/july 17 |
Burgers are one of the perks.
Who: Castiel and Dean
Where: Castiel's flat.
When: Week 2, Wednesday evening.
Why: Dean has trust issues.
Warnings: Probably none. TBA as needed.
Dean reread Castiel's reply to his journal entry for the 10th time and hummed thoughtfully before setting it aside.
It'd been a gamble, putting his question out there, but he'd hoped that the casual way he'd done it had demonstrated he was just curious, and not actively seeking information. Still, if there weren't any records (and Dean didn't necessarily believe that, because he'd come with a buttload of papers for Castiel), he was back to the drawing board. And that sucked, because he was here for a reason. He couldn't let his dad or Sammy down. And most importantly, he couldn't let his mom down.
The renegade-cum-slave padded downstairs from the bedroom to the immaculate kitchen. He'd been here a little over a week, but Castiel had proved to be an extremely accommodating Master. More than accommodating. Within a few days, he'd had more clothes than he'd ever had in his entire life, in a variety of styles. (He still wasn't sure if he'd ever wear the black leather pants but they looked badass). The fridge was similarly overstocked with more food than Dean could eat before it would go bad, which was one of the reasons he was trying to get the angel to eat with him. Wasting food just didn't sit well with him.
He pulled out the ground beef from the fridge and then walked to one of the electronics panels that he (and Cas) were both still figuring out how to use. There was some kind of electronic radio-type-thing that came with the house, and he turned it to the rock station, bobbing his head to the beat and humming along to the tune. It wasn't any music he'd heard before, but that didn't matter. He liked it--liked the pulsing percussive beat, the way the guitars seemed to screech and sing at the same time, like something primal.
Soon, the patties were made, and sizzling on the grill as he sliced cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, and onions for the toppings. The buns were some kind of artisan thing, but they looked good, so he buttered them and laid them down on the grill to toast. Timing was crucial when cooking, and Dean rushed to plate everything so it'd still be hot when Castiel showed up.
Speaking of which, he'd better give the guy a heads up. And of course, being an angel, he didn't need a communication device like everyone else. Oh no. Dean had learned that the best--the fastest--way of getting Castiel to show up when he needed him was to pray. And for someone who'd been raised atheist, it was more than a little awkward.
"Uh, Cas, you got your ears on?" He began. He cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together. "Good. This is uh, Dean. So, I know you're probably off being Sheriff and doing whatever it is that you do, but I letting you know that soup's on, and if you showed up in the next couple minutes, it'll probably even still be hot. So...okay, then."