'Why don't you go swimming like Sam?' Castiel asked Dean. The hunter was sitting on the bed. Tiny beads of sweat were making their way down his face into his shirt. His legs were also shiny with perspiration under the shorts he was wearing. He was swaying from side to side in time with the moving fan; Castiel didn't have the heart to tell him he only had to push one button and it would remain stationary. Panting, the hunter took off his shirt and threw it aside.
'Because, if I go outside dressed in only this, people bother me,' Dean said and there was no mistaking the smug undertone in his voice. He winked at Castiel. The angel knew what he meant. On the other hand, Sam was also good looking and he had gone swimming. Furthermore, Dean usually liked the attention.
'Then why don't you put on more clothes before you go outside?' he suggested and Dean rolled his eyes. He got up from the bed and stepped in front of the fan. After inspecting it, he pushed the stationary button and glared at Castiel, as if he guessed that the angel had known about that option.
'In weather like this, you don't put on clothes; you take them off,' Dean explained. He walked over to the window and Castiel looked at his glistening back. Muscles moved smoothly underneath the slick skin and Castiel suddenly felt a bit warm. Dean opened the window, but the air that streamed inside was not cool. It was possibly even warmer than the air in the hotel room, so he shut it again.
'Well, why don't you?'
Castiel pointedly stared at Dean's shorts and Dean looked down at them too. A wry expression appeared on the hunter's face.
'How about I don't?'
'Ok,' Castiel answered. It didn't matter to him. He wasn't the one who was sweating profusely. He wasn't the one huffing and puffing and complaining about the unbearable heat every three seconds. Though, Castiel did register a slight rise in his own body temperature. He might even be beginning to perspire. Dean flopped down on the bed and a brief silence followed. Suddenly, Dean sat up straight and looked at him.
'Aren't you hot?' Dean asked. Castiel could feel moisture forming in his hair and threatening to run down his face.
'No,' he lied. In a motion contradicting his lie, he swept his sleeve across his wet forehead. Dean placed his hands on his knees and regarded him curiously.
'You look hot,' Dean said and the hunter cringed slightly after saying it. Apparently, his vessel was not impervious to the heat. Interesting, Castiel thought. It was a smidgen strange, however, because he had been standing close to fire many a times and it had never affected him one iota. How then was this average summer day any different?
'Why don't you take off your coat?' Dean offered, but Castiel wrapped it around himself protectively.
'No, thank you. I prefer to keep it on,' Castiel protested. Dean shrugged and allowed himself to drop onto his back. The fan rattled constantly. Little drops of sweat developed on Dean's stomach and seemed to hesitate before sliding down either the left or the right side of his body. Castiel loosened his tie. Why did Dean have a tan? He never stepped outside with less than a shirt and jeans on.
'Could I get a bit of ventilation too?' Castiel asked in a hoarse voice. The hunter scooted over, so he could lie down beside him. The mattress was warm from the residual heat from Dean's body. Castiel undid the upper button of his shirt. The skin underneath his fingers felt hot. His breathing was a tad faster than normal too.
'Still not taking off your coat?' Dean said softly. Castiel shook his head. The sensation of the cool air blowing against his body was delicious, even through his clothes. He couldn't imagine what it must feel like to Dean. To have that coldness ripple over your exposed skin... Now, the temperature in the room was actually kind of nice.
'I love your coat too, but that is ridiculous. It's like a hundred degrees in here,' Dean breathed. The bed moved under them as Dean rolled onto his side and faced Castiel. Castiel felt an overwhelming urge to close his eyes, but it was impossible not to look at Dean. Dean's hands tugged at Castiel's tie briefly, before giving up. His face remained hovering over Castiel and the angel could see every pore and every imperfection. Not true, Castiel thought; Dean is practically perfect. Eventually, Dean lay back, but his hand was still holding Castiel's tie.
'I'm gonna... I don't know. Later maybe,' Dean whispered drowsily. Castiel allowed his eyelids to droop. His hand reached up to curl around Dean's. A pleasant dreamy feeling came over him. Dean's hand felt so right in his. The way it was supposed to be.
'Me too,' he agreed. Just not right now, he thought. Perhaps in a minute. The fan rattled and their breathing steadied. A silence settled over the room as sleep carried them away.
An hour later Sam stopped in front of the door to their room. Water was dripping out of his hair and there was some left in his right ear. He paused in the hallway, tilting his head and stomping his foot. His swimming trunks were too tight. Well, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd worn them, so that was only natural. A relieved sigh escaped his lips when the water seeped out and he heard his ear pop. Sam opened the door and froze when he noticed them.
'Guys? What are you doing?'
Sam was standing in the doorway of the hotel room with a look of utter confusion on his face. His hair was wet and slicked back and a towel was slung across his broad shoulder. Dean and Castiel took one look at his expression before untangling themselves. Castiel removed his hand from Dean's and Dean released his tie. The angel's coat was damp with the hunter's sweat. Creases from his coat were visible on the skin of Dean's stomach.
'Afternoon nap,' Dean said. His voice tried at confident, but instead sounded a bit hesitant. Castiel got up from the bed and straightened his clothes. As he fastened his tie, he could still sense the warmth of Dean's fingers. Sam smirked.
'Looked more like afternoon delight to me.'
They glanced at each other and simultaneously averted their gaze. Castiel had heard that the heat could make people behave erratically, but he'd expected something more along the lines of violence. Not whatever it was that had happened between Dean and him. Not warmth and intimacy and... love? And all because he refused to take off his coat.