Instead here he is in a room full of books and calculus instruments and with a young man gently snoring in a huge, sturdy wooden bed.
This isn't exactly how he imagined things to happen.
They said it was supposed to be a princess, right? Someone named Cass, Cassie or something! He is sure of this. Bobby translated the book on the legend, and Bobby never makes any mistakes...well, at least not if he's sober...Now, was Bobby sober when he sent him into this quest?
Dean doesn't know and, frankly, doesn't even care by this point. He's here now and he'll do his job. He's a prince, goddamn it, and a prince is never afraid to do is duty!
And that is why he finds himself leaning over the body, mentally prepping himself, and ready to go.
The man looks relaxed in sleep, pale-faced and yes, Dean supposes, quite handsome. He wonders who he is and what he's done to end up like this, if the stories still apply since he's obviously not a woman.
He wonders this and many other inconsequential things, mainly just to distract himself as he gradually leans down, and as his lips press down on the still, yet warm, lips, he finds he's out of thoughts for the moment.
Nothing happens, not right away, and he's ready to break away when he starts to feel something creeping up his back. As the lips under his open and he meets a timid tongue, warm and wet and delicately eager, he realizes those are arms and he's being hugged tight to this body.
The body of a man. Not a girl.
'Ohhh well,' he thinks, and dives further into the kiss.
no subject
This isn't exactly how he imagined things to happen.
They said it was supposed to be a princess, right? Someone named Cass, Cassie or something! He is sure of this. Bobby translated the book on the legend, and Bobby never makes any mistakes...well, at least not if he's sober...Now, was Bobby sober when he sent him into this quest?
Dean doesn't know and, frankly, doesn't even care by this point. He's here now and he'll do his job. He's a prince, goddamn it, and a prince is never afraid to do is duty!
And that is why he finds himself leaning over the body, mentally prepping himself, and ready to go.
The man looks relaxed in sleep, pale-faced and yes, Dean supposes, quite handsome. He wonders who he is and what he's done to end up like this, if the stories still apply since he's obviously not a woman.
He wonders this and many other inconsequential things, mainly just to distract himself as he gradually leans down, and as his lips press down on the still, yet warm, lips, he finds he's out of thoughts for the moment.
Nothing happens, not right away, and he's ready to break away when he starts to feel something creeping up his back. As the lips under his open and he meets a timid tongue, warm and wet and delicately eager, he realizes those are arms and he's being hugged tight to this body.
The body of a man. Not a girl.
'Ohhh well,' he thinks, and dives further into the kiss.